The Mentalist: The Long Gray Ribbon
by Donnamour1969
Summary: NOW COMPLETE! Post-Season 6 multichapter. Jane and Lisbon make their way back to Austin after the events of "Blue Bird." They have a lot to talk about. A road trip fic, filled to the brim with plenty of dialogue, Jisbon romance, humor, and a little drama. Spoilers for all of Season 6. Rated T/M for adult themes, language, and sexytimes. Cover courtesy of the awesome phoenix2812.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Yes, I know I'm supposed to be writing on two other projects, but I finally felt inspired to write my promised post-Season 6 multi-chapter. I plan on a three-shot (at least), with the possibility of a sequel later on. I've never written an extended road trip piece for this fandom, so I thought this might be a good time, since Jane and Lisbon have to find their way back from Florida to Texas. And after that kiss at the end of "Blue Bird", I imagine they have a lot to talk about.

**The Long Gray Ribbon**

**Chapter 1**

Before the TSA agent could come into the detention room and physically break them apart, Jane sat back in his chair, trembling in reaction. He reached for Lisbon's hands across the table and laced their fingers while she stared at him with flushed cheeks and dazed eyes.

"Well," he managed, willing his heart rate to slow. And then a grin spread across his face as he realized the enormity of all that had happened over the last few hours, including the last glorious minute, when he'd finally felt Lisbon's lips beneath his.

"Yes," she replied, and her slow smile answered his.

"I suppose this changes a few things," he said wryly.

She shook her head at him, green eyes dancing. "You could say that."

It was then that they heard the familiar deep voice of their boss, Dennis Abbott, speaking to their monitor in the windowed observation room. They both tensed, awaiting the verdict. When Abbott joined them after a moment, Lisbon tried to withdraw her hands self-consciously from Jane's, but he held them fast. He'd spilled his guts to a plane load of people; he wasn't about to hold them in now.

"Well, well, well," Abbot said, his face deceptively sober, but Jane detected the hint of amusement there. He set Jane's overnight bag from the hotel on the table beside them and eyed their joined hands, but made no comment. "You really screwed the pooch this time, didn't you?"

Jane nodded toward Lisbon in amusement. "Lisbon said something similar."

"Yeah, well, I'm sure we're both understating this mess."

"Sir," ventured Lisbon hesitantly. "I'd like to withdraw my transfer, if you'll still have me in Austin."

Abbott's smile was so wide, it actually showed teeth. "I'm glad to hear it. Of course you're welcome back."

Hearing she was officially staying made Jane's heart do a little flip in his chest. He caught her eye and gave her a tender, appreciative smile.

"Well, I have some more good news," Abbot said. "They've released you into my custody. But the bad news? You are on the no-fly list until this can be completely investigated, so I guess it's the nearest Greyhound for you."

"I'll drive him," offered Lisbon.

"You don't have to do that," Jane protested. "That's a long trip. Go see if you can exchange your ticket to DC."

Lisbon looked to Abbott, using this rare opportunity to go over Jane's head for a change. "Sir, he injured his foot, so I'm sure it wouldn't be very comfortable for him on a bus. And he can't drive with his right foot in that condition…I really think it would be best if I drive him back to Austin, if that's okay."

Abbott considered both his team members. It might be a good idea for them to have a chance to hash out all their problems before they got back to Austin; maybe then they could both focus more on their jobs and leave their personal lives outside the office. Things were just starting to click for everyone in Abbot's new team; it would be nice if things got back to normal around there.

"Fine. But no dawdling on the road."

"Then it's settled," said Lisbon. She shot Jane a warning glance, daring him to disagree. He shrugged in resignation, though he was secretly thrilled at the idea of their upcoming road trip.

"And speaking of rental cars," added Abbott. "It's lucky we found your keys to the Caddie in your hotel room. You sort of stranded us down there, Jane. I enjoyed driving it though; felt like a real gangsta." His smile turned wry. "I turned it back in to the car rental place here in Miami. Cho just picked up the SUV you borrowed, which was towed, by the way. That will definitely come out of your paycheck."

He didn't argue. "Thanks," said Jane.

"I talked to Shultz," Abbott continued. "She was pleased at how the case was wrapped up, though I left out the part about how you faked that letter. You're lucky I don't throw you into a cell for breaking our agreement about good behavior."

Jane looked duly chastised. "I appreciate that. And I am sorry about deceiving everyone."

"Wow, an apology. Well, I'd appreciate a head's up next time."

Jane grinned. "I'm a work in progress."

"Hmm."

Abbott looked from Jane to Lisbon and back again, feeling inordinately pleased with himself as his eyes briefly touched on their clasped hands.

"I see you're in good hands, here, Jane, so I'm going to go make my flight. See you two in a couple of days."

"Yes, sir," said Lisbon.

"Thank you, Dennis," said Jane meaningfully. "For everything."

"You're welcome." Abbott nodded, and then he left them. She looked after their latest boss in wonder.

"I can't believe he was so cool about all this. I was worried he'd be so pissed off you'd be remanded to the nearest detention suite."

"He got what he wanted," Jane said.

"What do you mean?"

"He's been playing cupid the last few weeks, hadn't you noticed?"

"No way."

Jane raised an eyebrow as realization dawned on her. "He _had _been trying to get me to open up to you more before I left…"she said.

"And remember the dinner on him at Il Tavolo Bianco?" Jane asked. "He's been trying to get me to do something about your leaving. Hell, he even gave me the keys to his SUV so I could get to the airport faster."

"Seriously? I didn't realize he was such a big old softie," she said, and chuckled.

"Meh," he scoffed. "Don't think this was some altruistic, romantic gesture, Teresa. He didn't want you to leave because he feared—rightly so—that if you were gone my heart wouldn't be in closing cases anymore."

She squeezed his hands. "I'm glad you finally wised up then," she teased. "For the sake of murder victims everywhere."

He brought one soft hand to his lips, his eyes filled with love. Her breath caught at the feel of his warm mouth on her skin once more. This time they were interrupted by an airport security officer pushing an empty wheelchair into the room.

"Mr. Jane? I was told to escort you outside the airport security area. You understand you are not allowed to purchase a ticket or enter beyond the ticketing area of any US airport until further notice?"

"Well, I do now," he said wryly.

He rose, allowing Lisbon to help him into the wheelchair. She placed his bag and his missing shoe in his lap. He could probably hobble along on his own, but he enjoyed having her fawn and fuss over him. And besides, he was dead tired. Outside the security area, their escort left them and Lisbon pushed Jane to the nearest car rental counter.

"Too bad they don't rent Airstreams," he said.

"Yeah, too bad. But we're renting something much more fuel efficient. No motor homes or boat-sized gas guzzlers from a bygone era."

"Hey, that Cadillac was sweet, you gotta admit."

She remembered how happy she'd been before she'd discovered his lies, and accepted it was at least partly because of the lovely convertible they'd driven all over southern Florida.

"I had fun," she admitted. "But all good things…"

He reached up and touched her arm. "Not _all _good things end."

"True," she whispered.

The rental agent cleared her throat and Lisbon looked up from Jane with a blush and requested a Toyota Camry. She purposely ignored Jane's eye roll.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Lisbon glanced at Jane as he sat in the passenger's seat, his eyes heavy, though he seemed supremely content. She didn't even stifle her yawn; away from the recent drama of the airport, a wave of tiredness washed over her.

"I have to get a few hours' sleep before I can drive to Austin," she decided. "And since I checked out of the lodge, and your room is now a crime scene, according to Cho…"

He cringed a little at the memory. "Sounds good to me," said Jane, but his pulse kicked up with the remembered disaster that was their recent brief stay in a hotel. He'd had such plans for the Blue Bird Lodge…

Lisbon took the next exit with a chain hotel looming ahead.

He found that he was too emotionally exhausted to do more than nod in acquiescence as Lisbon got them two separate rooms and handed him his key card. He definitely wanted to sleep, to prop his foot up, but as Lisbon helped him limp down the hall her nearness made him wish he was in better shape for other things.

But of course, that was too soon, right? They'd only kissed the one time. He was so out of practice with this stuff that falling into bed with her seemed both extremely desirable and terrifyingly well…terrifying.

She stopped in front of Room 103.

"This is you," she said.

The awkwardness wasn't new, considering the past month of nothing but. But Jane would have thought some of that would have dissipated after The Kiss.

One of the problems was it was the middle of the afternoon, and it seemed somehow unnatural to be going to a hotel room to actually sleep this time of day. They looked down the hall as a kissing couple laughed and entered their room together.

_My point exactly_, he said to himself.

"I'm setting my alarm for four hours from now," Lisbon said, looking away from the other couple and blushing as her thoughts obviously reflected his. "You want me to call you then?"

"Please," he said politely.

"Okay. See you—"

"Teresa," he said. She stopped and looked up at him askance. The sudden heat in his eyes captivated her, and she felt her heart picking up speed. Their bags fell to the floor with a simultaneous _thud_, and he pulled her gently into his arms.

It started out as tenderly as their first kiss, but soon his lips parted hers, and his tongue touched hers tentatively. She moaned softly and tilted her head, allowing him to delve deeper into her hot mouth. He drew a sharp breath through his nose and gave himself to the kiss, letting her feel his long-banked passion as he backed her against the closed door.

Hands glided over arms and shoulders, brushed over sensitized skin, slid into soft hair. Jane had the sensation of drowning, of falling beneath the waves, her faint perfume and the sound of her delicate gasps surrounding him, pulling him under. He was flush against her body, her breasts flattened against his shirt, his hips pressing into her stomach, leaving her no doubt of his desire. He was just fumbling for his key card, his mouth still fused to hers, when he felt the air change around them as a family of three walked down the hall past them.

"That's what the rooms are for," muttered the angry father under his breath as he attempted to shield his family from the sordid scene.

"What's that man doing to that lady, Mommy?" asked the little girl at the end of her father's hand.

Jane dragged his lips from Lisbon's, looking up in time to see the mother's disapproving glare. She hushed her daughter and the family picked up their pace until they disappeared around the corner.

Lisbon, of course, was mortified. She closed her eyes and buried her scarlet cheek against his shoulder, her breathing ragged and loud in his ears. Or was that his own?

"Sorry," he said, grinning against her hair. "I got a little carried away."

"We both did," she managed. She hugged him briefly, her movements to extricate herself from between him and his door not helping his self-control much. He gritted his teeth in thwarted desire and reluctantly stepped back, meeting her eyes sheepishly.

"I'd better go," she said, picking up her bag. "I'm uh, three doors down."

He raised an amused eyebrow. "Didn't trust adjoining rooms?"

She grinned, her face still beautifully flushed. "And rightly so, I'd say. Get some sleep," she ordered. "We have a long trip ahead of us."

"As you wish, Agent Lisbon," he teased.

She stopped in front of her door to look back at him, her dimpled smile and passion-filled eyes tempting him to follow her.

"I love you," she whispered, and her voice carried perfectly to his ears, even from down the hall.

His hand stilled on the door handle, his heart in his throat. He swallowed, his grin turning wobbly.

"I love you too, Teresa."

Her smile became absolutely radiant before she disappeared into her room. Jane stood in the hallway for a full minute, still smelling her scent, trying to keep his head above water.

He expelled the breath he'd been holding, then opened his door with shaking hands.

"No way I'm sleeping now," he said to the empty room.

But both of them fell asleep the moment their heads hit the pillow, sleeping the sleep of the truly contented.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

They grabbed a quick bite at the hotel restaurant, and then they were on their way, just as the sun dipped below the horizon.

Once they were out of Miami traffic, Lisbon looked sidelong at Jane, sitting comfortably in the passenger's seat. She took a deep breath and Jane tried to control his grin as she prepared to say something serious.

"I was thinking that we could use this trip to sort a few things out."

"What sort of things?"

"Oh, come on, Jane. We haven't exactly had any deep conversations about anything in awhile."

"True," he agreed. "Not since you raked me over the coals on the plane ride to New York."

"Which you deserved," she said tightly.

"And which I took to heart," he said quietly.

"I noticed. You've been so good at staying out of my life—until this trip, that is—that you almost let me leave for Washington without telling me how you really felt about it. About me."

He sighed melodramatically. "Women. When I asked you what women wanted, I really felt like I was losing my touch in that department. I mean, you basically asked me to mind my own business, but then you kept waiting around for me to get in your business again. So, I put the decision in your hands—like I thought you wanted. I told you I just wanted you to be happy, which was the truth. You've been driving me crazy for weeks with your mixed messages."

Her hands tightened on the steering wheel, and then she relaxed in resignation.

"You're right. I assumed that since you've always been so good at reading my mind that you'd get that all I wanted was for you to tell me how you really felt. That you wanted me to stay for you, not just to keep the damn team together."

Jane chuckled humorlessly. "I don't know why I could read you like a book with everything else, but I seem to have a blind spot where _your_ true desires are concerned. I suppose I thought you deserved better."

When she would have protested, he took her hand across the console, lacing his fingers with hers, feeling her pulse jump at his touch.

"But I was telling the truth, Teresa. At least, half of it. I meant it when I said I want you to be happy. Your happiness is the most important thing to me. Still is."

"But what you weren't telling me was that my leaving wouldn't make _you_ happy, right?"

"I guess I thought that went without saying."

"Unlike you, Jane, I've never claimed to be psychic."

"See? Final proof there's no such thing as psychics."

This time, she brought _his_ hand to her lips, kissing the back of it, daring to touch his taught skin lightly with the tip of her tongue. She was pleased to hear his softly indrawn breath, and in the fading light of the sunset, she glanced over in time to see his eyes darken with the sensuality of it. Jane found her unusual forwardness extremely exciting, and delighted at his glimpse into what she would be like in the bedroom.

She set their hands back down on the console and smirked knowingly as she directed her attention back to the road, while Jane began thinking of ways he would make her pay later for the burgeoning discomfort in his pants. He shifted in his seat, then he grinned as another thought occurred to him.

"Funny isn't it, how we only mange to be completely honest with each other onboard airplanes."

She laughed. "Well, let's make a pact then. We'll be completely honest in cars too, from now on."

"So I can still trick you on a train? Jive you on a jitney? Obfuscate on an outrigger-?"

She looked heavenward. "We'll be honest in _all _modes of transportation."

"You drive a hard bargain, Lisbon," he said, enjoying the return to their familiar banter.

They were comfortably quiet for a few minutes, lost in their own thoughts, though still connected by their hands. Jane rubbed his thumb over her delicate knuckles, finding it surreal that he could do this, that she wasn't pulling awkwardly away from his touch. Indeed, like him, she seemed to revel in it, craved it even. He began to wish they could have stayed a full night in Miami, regretting that he hadn't pulled her into his room after their brief make-out session in the hotel hallway.

He glanced at her in the twilight, noting how tired she still appeared. It had been an emotionally and physically draining couple of days for both of them.

"Sorry I can't do some of the driving," he said, flinching as he tried to flex his bum ankle.

"I don't mind; I wouldn't have offered otherwise."

"Yes, you would. You are the most selfless person I've ever known."

Her brow furrowed in disagreement. "No I'm not."

"You're thinking of Pike," he said.

She didn't deny it.

"I called him earlier, in Miami," she began. "I was hoping he'd get really angry with me for breaking things off like that. I wanted him to yell, because I felt like I deserved it. But he was only calmly disappointed. It just made me feel worse."

"I don't imagine he was too surprised though," said Jane. She turned her head to look at him.

"What?"

"He must have sensed your heart wasn't in it when it came to him, good FBI agent that he is. And everyone seemed to see the writing on the wall except for you and me. Oh, and Cho. That's probably why Pike pushed you so hard—he was desperate to hang on to you. I don't really fault him for that."

"He didn't push—"

"Truth, Lisbon. New rules, remember?"

"Okay, I'll concede he was very…_persuasive_."

"Pushy."

She sighed in exasperation. "Fine. He was, a little, I suppose. But he was sort of under a deadline, what with his new job and all. When you weren't exactly begging me to stay with you, I decided to just cut my losses and go for it. It wasn't like I had any other offers pending. And then there was my biological clock to consider…"

"I'm sorry," he felt compelled to say. He'd probably never apologized so much in his life. Well, not and meant it.

"The thing with Pike was all my fault, Jane. It wasn't fair to him to mislead him like I did. In my defense, I _had_ planned to make a go of it." He felt the sudden tension in her hand. "But I definitely shouldn't have agreed to marry him."

His eyes widened. He'd known that if Lisbon moved to DC with Pike, that's where their relationship was heading. He'd even said as much to Lisbon. But to hear her confirm it made his stomach lurch sickeningly at what he'd nearly let happen.

"Wow," he murmured. "That was…fast."

"I was trying to hurt you," she admitted sadly. "After I found out you'd duped me on Islamorada, I thought of the most spiteful thing I could possibly do to get back at you. That is what came immediately to mind. It was probably the most selfish thing I've ever done. Marcus didn't deserve that."

"No," Jane agreed. "But I have to tell you, Teresa, as far as vengeance goes, you gave even me a run for my money. I have no doubt that would probably have done me in. I was already being driven slowly insane, seeing you kiss him, imagining you making love to him, having a life with a man who wasn't me. Cutting me completely out of it. It was a hundred times worse than when I was in South America, because there, I could imagine you in your little police station in Washington, solving small-town crimes and going home alone to your comfortable little house, just as Sam had described for me. I didn't have to actually watch you find happiness with another man. But knowing you were lost to me forever, married to a man who loved you, who you loved in returned—it was the worst thing that's happened to me since Red John-"

"Stop, please," said Lisbon, finding his confession nearly unbearable. Tears sprung to her eyes and she let loose of his hand to wipe them from her cheeks. He felt bereft with the sudden lack of contact.

"Okay, I'll stop; but that's more of the truth I've been withholding, and it's not very pretty. Clearly, we've both made mistakes—some real doozies. But what's done is done, and if there's one valuable lesson I've learned from you, Lisbon, it's the power of forgiveness. You've certainly forgiven me enough transgressions to apply for sainthood. We have to cut ourselves some slack now. And as for Pike; he'll get over it. He'll realize that he wouldn't have wanted someone who wasn't really his, that you did him a favor by breaking things off."

She sniffed a little and turned to look at him. The headlights of an oncoming car briefly lit her ravaged face. "Do you really think so?"

He captured her hand again, gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Yes," he said simply. He fished into his pocket for a slightly used handkerchief and leaned over to wipe her cheeks. He finished by kissing the one closest to him, moving away with the salt of her tears on his lips. She let go a tremulous sigh and stared ahead into the gathering darkness, trying to get a hold of her emotions.

"Okay. Well. I propose an addendum to our new travel rules," he said. "No more talk of the last month's events. I think we've sufficiently pummeled that dead horse, don't you?"

She smiled. "Agreed. Let's talk about the future for a change."

He immediately brightened. "I'd like that."

"Me too. So let me ask you, Jane. What do you want to do with your life?"

"I don't care, as long as it's with you."

"Aw, come on. Seriously."

"I am serious. I really haven't given it much thought."

It was true. The main thing that had driven him for ten years was hunting down and killing Red John. When he got back to the States, what had kept him going for months more was securing Lisbon's place with him at the FBI. He'd gotten that too, along with his other demands, so he'd just been living one day at a time, settling into the new job, just enjoying working with her again. When Pike had entered the picture, his new goal became the constant effort of ignoring the possibility she was leaving. He hadn't had any plans beyond that; was deeply afraid of thinking about it.

"Well, maybe it's time you started making some plans, don't you think? So I'll ask you again, what do you want to do with your life?"

He didn't speak for a few moments, making a sincere attempt to contemplate his future. He pushed aside his first thought, mainly because it made his heart pound alarmingly, so he voiced his second instead.

"I'd like to travel," he said tentatively. "It's in my carney blood, I suppose. I've seen most of the US, Mexico, parts of Europe and Canada, a little of South America. But there's a big, wide world out there, Teresa. I'd like to explore it. With you, if I can," he finished almost shyly.

"I would love that! I've never been anywhere, really, except where my job has taken me. We didn't have the money for elaborate vacations when I was growing up, though we'd usually spend a week at the beach of Lake Michigan in the summers. There was that one summer when my aunt took me to New York City, but that's about the extent of it. So, yeah, traveling the world sounds amazing. I'd love to go with you, wherever you want."

"Italy," he suggested with quiet awe that he'd even allowed himself to contemplate such a fantasy. "I haven't yet been to Italy."

She looked over at him, her face fairly beaming. "Italy it is, then," she agreed. "After we've worked for the FBI a year, we get three weeks off."

"That's in just four months, Teresa."

"I know."

"Then what's stopping us?"

"Nothing," she replied, feeling almost giddy with the very thought of it.

He would take her on the most fabulous trip she could imagine, dip into those offshore accounts he'd set up back in his fake psychic days (safe from the Feds), to which he'd added most of his CBI and recent FBI paychecks over the years. He'd only withdrawn funds from it in emergencies, like when he was out of work in South America for two years, or when he'd paid for adjoining seaside suites at the Blue Bird Lodge. But he knew the balance ran into seven figures; more than enough to take her around the world if she wished it.

Lisbon had been saving her money too, dutifully investing for her retirement, putting some in savings for a rainy day. Her six months out of work when the CBI dissolved had made a dent in it, but she figured she'd replenished it enough to get her to Italy. And with Jane splitting the expenses it was totally doable.

"Okay, travel is in our future," she said happily. "What else?"

His throat tightened once more around his first thought, and because she held his left hand, he couldn't fidget with the wedding band that still rested there.

"Jane?" she said, peering at him in the dimness of the dashboard lights.

He cleared his throat. "I think it's your turn, Lisbon," he hedged.

Since her first inclination (unbeknownst to either of them) directly reflected his, she found the cat had gotten quite the hold on her tongue as well. But Lisbon knew it was her turn to be brave, so she swallowed hard and dove in.

"I'd still like to get married some day," she said, her quiet words seeming loud inside the practical midsize sedan. "Maybe even have a family, if it's not too late. And if that's what my—my husband wants." She stared straight ahead, her heart racing at her own temerity.

For perhaps the hundredth time within a twenty-four hour period, Jane felt his own eyes fill with emotion.

"I'm sure he would love that, Teresa," he managed, his voice breaking in that embarrassing way it did sometimes. That, he realized, was his one true tell. "He wouldn't be able to deny you anything," he finished.

A vision flashed in his mind of her body, ripe and full and beautiful in pregnancy, his child growing inside of her. Such thoughts had been taboo for so long that it still scared him to even allow himself to think about it.

Beside him, Lisbon let out the breath she'd been unconsciously holding. Impulsively, she pulled over to the side of the busy interstate, the passing cars making the little Camry shake as they raced by. They released their seatbelts at the same time, meeting awkwardly across the center console, their kisses passionate, emotional, and full of hope.

**A/N: Next chapter, the road trip continues, as does the conversation. With the heavy stuff out of the way, there's much more room for witty banter, radio arguments, competitive travel games, and maybe even a stopover in New Orleans…**

**P.S.: More of "The Psychic Next Door" to come, as well as a tag for 1x11, for those who are playing along at home.**

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	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Wow! You guys are incredible! Thanks so much for all the wonderfully encouraging reviews. They mean the world to me. **

**This chapter is definitely a mixed bag, lol. I'm attempting to explore how Jane might be, now that he feels comfortable to lower his inhibitions a bit on a more personal level. I think that before he lost his family, he must have been a terribly romantic, and even sexual being. I mean, look at the man. I hope he doesn't come across as too out of character here, but in fact, everything from the time he got on that plane was out of character where Lisbon was concerned-out of the character we've seen for the last six years, anyway. But enough explanations. Let's see what you think.**

**Chapter 2**

By midnight, they had spent a pleasant few hours talking about old times at the CBI, discussing music and even singing along (or fighting over) the radio. But Lisbon was seriously winding down, despite having stopped twice for coffee. A four-hour nap had not been nearly enough, not after twenty-four hours without sleep, and she was suddenly feeling her age. She couldn't pull two all-nighters in a row anymore.

She reached out and flipped off the radio.

"This noise isn't cutting it," she told Jane, putting her empty cup in the holder. "My brain needs something more to focus on or I'm going to fall asleep at the wheel."

"We could play a game," Jane suggested. He was used to getting by on limited sleep, and while his insomnia had nearly gone away after he'd killed Red John, over the past month it had returned with a vengeance as he'd witnessed Lisbon slowly slipping through his fingers.

"Are you kidding? I know better than to play games with you. You always win."

"True," he conceded. "But this is some lighthearted fun. It's a getting-to-know-you game."

She glanced over at him, skeptical eyebrow raised.

"Scoff if you will, but it occurs to me that, while we have known each other for over a decade, there are many things that were always off limits to talk about. I tried to respect your privacy, but now, I'd like to invade your privacy as much as humanly possible."

She laughed. "Oh, really? Well, it works both ways, buddy. There are plenty of things about you I've always wanted to know. Are you really willing to put yourself out there now? No clever evasions? Nothing off limits?"

He smirked in the darkness. "You show me yours, sweetheart…"

"Okay then. Deal. How do we play?"

"It's simple, really. We'll take turns asking if the other has ever done something. The goal is to find something neither of us has done, and decide whether we'd like to do it together someday. Nothing is off limits. The only rule is, if you agree to play, you have to answer the questions."

"Hmm," she said, though she felt a tingle of trepidation.

Like Jane, she was by nature a very private person, had always believed in keeping her work life separate from her personal life. The walls between the two had come down lately, what with Marcus doing things like kissing her and proposing marriage in the office, and perhaps because she wasn't a team leader anymore, she hadn't felt the need to set a perfect example. There had always been a very defined wall between herself and Jane, however. They'd skated around the details of their private lives for years, out of both fear and respect, she imagined. This habit probably was a big reason why it had been so difficult to share their true intimate feelings with each other. The idea of emotionally exposing herself to him now made her feel a bit lightheaded, but also, she had to admit, wonderfully excited.

"Lisbon? You in?"

"I'm in. You go first."

"All right. I'll start with an easy one. Have you ever gone skinny dipping?"

"What?" she said, laughing. He was just going to jump right in with the personal questions then. She blushed. "Yes," she admitted. "You?"

"Yes," he said cheerfully. "Any more details you'd like to add to that?"  
"Nope," she replied mysteriously. "My turn. Have you ever…gone skydiving?"

"Definitely not."

"Oh? Why not?"

"I've never understood why someone would jump out of a perfectly good plane and risk plummeting to their deaths. I mean, how incredibly stupid would you feel as you were falling and your parachute didn't open? No thank you. But you have, haven't you?"

"Yes. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once." _Sort of like loving you_, she thought with a private smile.

"Interesting. Next question. Have you ever made love out of doors?"

She gasped involuntarily. "Jane!"

"Answer the question, Teresa," he said softly.

She swallowed. "Yes."

"And what were the circumstances, if I may ask?"

"You may not. It's my turn now."

"Don't you want to know if I have?"

"No."

He chuckled. "Liar. And yes, I have. In the ocean. By the ocean. In a meadow. On a Ferris wheel. Behind the Hollywood sign—"

She was fascinated in spite of herself. "You're kidding me?"

"Nope."

"How? With whom? No. Sorry. None of my business." She gripped the steering wheel with both hands. Who the hell was this man who had once seemed almost…asexual?

"Karen Clemens," he said dreamily. "I was sixteen, and the carnival had stopped just outside of LA. She dared me."

Lisbon looked over at him, her mouth wide open in shock.

"She was also my partner in crime on the Ferris wheel, by the way."

"Damn," she said under her breath. "I can't believe you're telling me this."

"I'm an open book now, Lisbon. Ask anything you want. This actually feels pretty damn good."

"Well, okay then. Have you ever…cheated on someone?"

"No."

"Well, that was categorical."

"I'm a one-woman man, Teresa. Always have been. Well," he added with a grin that flashed white in the darkness. "One at a time, anyway."

She rolled her eyes. "Your turn, loverboy."

"Have you ever made love in a car?"

"I'm detecting a theme here," she said dryly.

"No, wait. I think I can answer this for you."

"Jane—"

"The answer is yes, you have. As a matter of fact, I would venture to say your first time was in the backseat of your boyfriend's Camaro. You were eighteen, and your Catholic guilt set in as soon as the deed was done. You went to Confession the next day. And probably the day after that."

She was quiet a moment, her thoughts drifting back in time. She hadn't thought about her first time in years.

"You're wrong," she said softly. "It was a Trans-Am."

He chuckled. "Nothing to be ashamed of, Lisbon. Losing your virginity in the back of a muscle car is the American way."

"Oh, God. I've never told anyone that before."

"Except your priest."

"Not even him."

"Well, then I feel honored. Your turn."

"You didn't answer the question for yourself," she reminded him.

"Yes, I _have_ had sex in a car," he replied. "Though never in a Camry."

"Me neither," she said softly.

"Hmm," he hummed, tapping his lower lip thoughtfully.

The conversation had veered so far into the surreal that Lisbon was having trouble wrapping her mind around it. She had to admit that she liked his seductive tone, loved the way it made her spine tingle, her face warm, her stomach fill with butterflies. So this was what it was like to be openly loved by Patrick Jane.

"Next question," he prompted her.

The thought of asking the question that occurred to her made her pulse race uncomfortably. Could she really ask him this? But she couldn't pass this up; he was being so open and honest with her. Maybe there would never be a better time.

"Don't be afraid," said Jane, sensing her inner struggle. "Ask me anything."

"I'm not sure I have the right."

"We love each other, Teresa. That gives you every right."

She took a breath, and then she asked him.

"Have you ever considered taking off your wedding ring? Not just for a case, I mean."

She felt him go still beside her, his tension at her question almost palpable. She didn't have Jane's phenomenal gift of insight, but it was obvious even to her that this question might be too difficult for him. Perhaps she'd found the line he would not cross. Or maybe she was reading him completely wrong, and it was his fear of hurting her that made him hesitate.

"I'm sorry. You don't have to answer that," she said quickly. "I'll think of something else."

"Yes," he said. "In South America."

This was a complete surprise to her. Her mind began to race. Had he wanted to commit to someone else he'd met there? She hadn't asked him anything important about their time apart, except mundane things about the people of the village where he lived, the details of his daily life. He'd never mentioned another woman. In all the years she'd known him, he'd worn his ring faithfully, and whenever she looked at it, she felt the presence of his dead wife, a seemingly unbreakable link to his tragic past.

"Oh." She wasn't going to ask for more information.

He sighed. "This is going to sound bad, Teresa, especially because of what's happened since—"

"Maybe I don't really want to know," she said, feeling the prick of tears behind her eyes.

"Yes, you do. And I really need to tell you. In the spirit of telling the truth in all forms of transportation, mind you." He cracked a small smile-to try to set her at ease, she assumed, but it only made her brace harder for what he might say next.

"I'm sure you deduced that Kim Fischer's roll in tracking me down on that island was to soften me up, seduce me with her charms to make me consider coming back to the States."

"Fischer?" She was genuinely startled at this turn of the conversation. Never in a million years would she have thought her coworker would have anything remotely to do with Patrick Jane's wedding ring. She tried to calm herself, not to jump to conclusions and let him explain. "Yes, I figured that out later. I didn't think she had succeeded though, in seducing you that is."

He caught a whiff of jealousy, and it made him want to smile again, but he resolutely stifled that impulse. This would be difficult enough to explain without Lisbon speculating about any residual feelings he might have for the lovely Agent Fischer.

"She didn't," he told her. "But I was tempted. And so, before I met her for dinner, I took off my ring."

"But you didn't—"

"No. But I might have, had I not drunk so much to summon the courage, or gotten kicked in the uh, groin before I had a chance to try."

Lisbon's eyes widened. "Fischer racked you?"

He laughed, though it still smarted just thinking about it. "No. Some local hooligan, but that's another story. The point is, I took off my ring in an attempt to move on with my life. I didn't ever see myself returning to you in the States. I'd killed Red John, and I figured it was about time I let go of the past completely. When I woke up the next morning, hung over and still in pain, I put it back on. I wasn't ready. At least, not with Kim."

"But you're back now," she said, willing her voice not to tremble.

"Yes, and I can't really explain it logically, Teresa, but being back with you made it easier to keep it on."

"Gee, thanks."

"I'm botching this up royally, aren't I?" He reached for her hand with his left, the one that still held the ring Angela had placed there eons ago. For the first time since their kiss in the TSA office, she shied from his touch, moving both hands back to the steering wheel.

"Let me try this again," he said. "It was easy to take my ring off for Kim because she meant nothing. If I took my ring off for you, well, it would be real. It would be forever. And something tells me that had I slept with Kim, I would have put it back on the next morning anyway, overwhelmed with guilt because I'd taken it off for sex rather than for love."

His words hung in the quiet car for a full minute, while Lisbon attempted to process this. He was right; his reasoning didn't seem logical. Not at first, anyway. But she understood now where he was coming from. It still hurt, but she knew him well enough that Jane never took anything he did lightly, especially when it came to his lost family.

"I think," he said at last, breaking the silence. "I was always subconsciously waiting for you. My brain kept telling me I would never see you again…but I think my heart was still holding out."

To his supreme relief, she relaxed in her seat, her grip on the steering wheel loosening considerably.

"I guess it sort of makes sense," she said slowly. "Thank you for telling me this. You took a huge chance that I might throw you out of this car."

His smile was like the dawn.

"Thank you for understanding, Lisbon."

"And for the record," she added, her good humor returning. "No way Kim Fischer would have slept with you. Just sayin'."

"Now you're just being mean," he said dryly.

"Oh, please. She's a professional. Sleeping with you on the job would have been tantamount to prostitution in her eyes, and you know it."

"I don't know, Lisbon. She was turning it up pretty high that night on the island. What with the dinner, the cervezas, the dancing, the making of the perfect tea…"

"She made you tea?"

"Well, I'll give that it was the next morning, when I was totally hung over, but still…a woman who can make tea that well was just begging for it, at least in my eyes."

Lisbon reached over and punched him hard in the arm.

He laughed.

"I'm tired of this game," said Lisbon grumpily, noting the sign that said there was a gas station ahead. She put on her blinker. She admitted to herself that she was jealous of Fischer. Not the Fischer she knew now, but the woman who had been compelling enough to get Jane to do what twelve years of loyalty had not.

"I know another game," he offered, sensing her melancholy mood. "It's much deeper. It has you plumbing the depths of your very soul to decide the best answer."

"After your first game, I don't really think I can handle any more of your _lighthearted fun_."

He ignored her sarcasm. "Okay. First question: would you rather have fingers as long as your legs, or legs as long as your fingers?"

She reached over and turned the radio on, cranking up the volume while he chuckled softly to himself.

After their pit stop, however, when Jane was limping back to the car, she noticed he was no longer wearing his wedding ring.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After another two hours, her vision began to blur.

"I've got to stop and get some sleep," she said. She looked next to her and saw that Jane was sleeping soundly. Some help he was in keeping her awake, she thought in annoyance.

With a sigh, she turned off the interstate and into the next rest area she saw. Yawning quietly, she turned off the engine and leaned her chair all the way back. From the back seat she grabbed her jacket, and, using it as a blanket, snuggled down into her seat.

xxxxxxxxxxx

She awoke to the sound of a staccato tapping, and to Jane violently shaking her arm. The light from the advancing dawn turned everything golden.

"Lisbon," he said. "Wake up!"

"Huh?"

He nudged her and glanced toward the window.

"Open the door or I'll shoot!" ordered the man with the red bandana tied over his nose and mouth, bandito style. The loud tapping had been the sound of his small handgun rapping against the window.

"Aw, shit," she said, more annoyed than frightened.

Lisbon's mind began to work immediately; she was used to having to be suddenly alert. She eyed the man and his gun impassively, then, being sure to make her movements slow and easy, reached for the door handle.

"Do what he says," she said to Jane under her breath.

"Oh, don't worry about that," he said, hands up.

"Now, get out…_bitch_," he added as an afterthought. "You too, mister."

The bandit stepped back as the car door swung open, Lisbon stepping out with her hands up.

Jane, having rightly assessed that their attacker was just a kid, resisted rolling his eyes and got out of the car, mimicking Lisbon's nonthreatening movements, his hands up. There were no other cars around them in the parking lot, save for an old Chevy pickup truck and a semi parked on the other side of the restrooms.

"Come around the car and stand by her. No funny stuff, or the uh, bitch gets it."

"Take it easy," Jane said, as to a frightened animal. The man's forehead was damp with sweat and his gun shook slightly. "You're in complete control here," Jane said soothingly, hopping on his good foot, the other hand using the car for support. "Nobody has to get hurt."

"Shut up! I need your money or any other valuables you have. Starting with your wallet."

On the driver's side of the car, Jane obediently retrieved his wallet from his inside coat pocket, his movements slow and deliberate.

"Toss it on the ground." Jane held the young man's eyes as his wallet hit the pavement.

"My money's in my bag in the back seat," Lisbon said.

Jane's face went still. She hadn't been wearing her sidearm, and he knew it wasn't in the glove box, so the only other place it would be was in her duffle bag. He briefly caught her eye and correctly gauged her intentions.

"Get it. No tricks, or you're both dead."

"What's your name, kid?" Jane asked calmly, attempting to distract him.

"Ha. You must think I'm stupid. Shut the fuck up."

"No, I don't think you're stupid. Just desperate. What do you need the money for?"

"Everybody needs money, man."

"But not everybody holds people up at rest stops. It must be something very important."

Jane held the man's gaze, willing him to calm down and focus on him, and not on Lisbon, who was opening the door to the back seat. He heard the zip of the duffle bag.

"College," the kid admitted, seemingly against his will. "I need it for college."

"Ever heard of Stafford Loans?" Jane asked dryly.

"Put the gun down now," came Lisbon's most commanding police voice.

The robber looked at Lisbon in astonishment, as she trained her Glock on his head.

Jane chose that time to quickly move out of the line of the kid's gun, his movements causing the boy to fire instinctively, the bullet making a fine hole in the car window before embedding into the driver's seat.

Lisbon dove on top of their assailant, knocking him to the ground, while Jane toed his dropped gun out of the way with his left foot. Lisbon quickly pinned the robber to the ground with her knee in his back. She held his wrists roughly behind his body with one hand while she pressed the Glock to his neck with the other.

"Be still," she ordered. "Jane, get my handcuffs from my bag, please."

"Are you a freakin' cop?" asked the kid, his voice muffled by the bandana and the pavement.

"FBI."

"Jesus."

"Close," said Jane with a grin. "Saint Teresa."

She gave Jane a dirty look, then took the cuffs and efficiently fastened them around the lanky boy's wrists. She hauled him up and shoved him into the back seat, pulling down his mask before slamming the door on his shocked baby-faced expression. She retrieved her phone from the console and dialed 911.

"This is Agent Teresa Lisbon with the FBI. I've got a 2-11 at the rest stop off I-10 near Lyman. I need immediate assistance please."

It took about twenty minutes for the Louisiana patrolman to arrive, and another hour before he got all the information he needed from the scene. The officer had taken pictures of the gunshot to the Camry, and retrieved the bullet slug from the seat. The college kid waited in the back seat of the patrol car.

"Poor kid," he said with genuine sympathy.

"Maybe he'll finish his education in prison," Lisbon said, shaking her head morosely.

Four hours later, after a multitude of official statement taking, a phone call to Abbott, and generally waiting around at the nearest highway patrol station, they were on the road again. Lisbon merged onto the interstate, rolling her shoulders tiredly. She was in desperate need of more coffee—the stuff at the station had tasted even worse than the swill at the FBI.

Jane took out the complimentary map from the glove box.

"Hey, we're just a couple hours from New Orleans. Let's stop there for an early dinner."

"Jane, we've already wasted enough—"

"Have you ever been to New Orleans, Teresa?"

"No, but—"

"You wanted to see the world with me. The Big Easy is a great place to start."

"Abbott told us not to dawdle."

"You know what, we risked our lives to prevent a kid from beginning a life of crime. I think we deserve some good food. Besides, you're exhausted. Let's get a room if we can, catch a few hours of sleep. The idea was to get us _safely_ home to Austin, and frankly, I'm not trusting our odds in your current condition."

"Jane," she said, trying to sound deeply offended. Her unexpected, huge yawn sort of took away her thunder.

"My point exactly. Come on, Lisbon. You know you want to."

She glanced over at him, saw to her dismay he was giving her his most appealing puppy dog eyes, which on Patrick Jane were doubly effective. She was nearly powerless to resist, especially now that she knew what it felt like to kiss that smiling mouth of his. The jerk knew immediately that he'd won. She shook her head in exasperation, grinning reluctantly at his triumph. He stretched across the console and gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek.

"You won't regret this, Lisbon, I promise."

"Where have I heard that before?"

Her cheek tingled pleasantly for many miles afterwards.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

On the way to New Orleans, Jane began calling hotels. He secured an inn on Chartres Street in the French Quarter, only lucking out because they'd had a last-minute cancellation. They would have to share a room though-one with two beds—and Lisbon only relented because she knew both of them were way too tired to do much more than grab a bite to eat and catch a few hours of sleep.

Jane was actually able to plug in the GPS coordinates on his phone and she drove slowly down the street, stopping in front of the inn to utilize the valet parking since Lisbon feared Jane wouldn't make it on his bum ankle. It was early afternoon, and the Quarter was relatively quiet. They carried their bags and walked toward the front entrance of the inn.

Lisbon noticed that he was hardly even limping. In fact, he was wearing both his shoes now. She frowned.

"You're ankle's barely hurting now, is it?"

He shrugged, not remotely apologetic. "Several hours off of it, and it's almost good as new."

At her look of annoyance, he felt compelled to explain himself. "It was only a sprain, Lisbon. I promise I'll put in my share of driving now."

This seemed to concern her more than his hurt ankle had. "That's all right," she said quickly. "I don't mind."

He chuckled, his hand going to her lower back as she preceded him inside the hotel.

Their room was small, but the view from the balcony of famous Royal Street more than made up for it. They were in the heart of the French Quarter, and by nightfall the streets would be hopping with all manner of excitement and interesting people.

While Jane went out the French doors to the balcony, Lisbon dropped her bag on the floor, then practically threw herself down on the nearest bed, lying on her back, spread eagle. She closed her eyes, moaning blissfully as she stretched.

Captivated by that particular sound, Jane peeked back into the room, his mouth going dry as he beheld the beautiful woman lying prone on the bed. The temerity that had compelled him to climb across a table in a TSA detention room emerged again, and he walked purposely to the bed, pressing one knee into the soft mattress.

Teresa didn't even react. He crawled carefully closer on all fours, like a graceful cat, until his face hovered over hers. He smiled gently, willing her to open her eyes, but she was too tired to move. Experimentally, he lowered his mouth. It took her a moment to summon the strength to kiss him back, and Jane knew she must be half-asleep. He wasn't touching her anywhere but her soft mouth, holding himself above her, his arms trembling slightly.

Jane kissed her leisurely but thoroughly, though his heart was pounding as if they were in the throes of passion. Suddenly, she wasn't responding to his kisses at all. He slowly withdrew his lips, then sat back on the bed with a grin and a shake of his head.

She smacked her lips once in her sleep, then, to his even greater amusement, she began to snore softly.

"I really must be out of practice," he whispered to the room.

He watched her sleeping—a novelty in itself—allowing his love for her to fully suffuse him. Since his family's murder, he had only ever wanted Red John and Teresa Lisbon. He'd always known he would get the former; it was only in his wildest dreams that he'd imagined he'd have a chance at the latter.

Funny how the world worked, he mused. Two days ago he'd sunk once more into the deepest depths of despair, and now he was in fabulous New Orleans, on a bed with Teresa Lisbon. He didn't think he was capable of being surprised anymore, but she'd done it, just liked she'd promised him over dinner a few weeks before. He should have learned by now never to underestimate this woman.

Not wanting to disturb her further, Jane moved slowly off the bed and retrieved the coverlet at the foot of it, laying it gently over Lisbon's sleeping form. He removed his suit jacket and shoes and, covering a yawn, stretched out on his own bed to sleep.

**A/N: I'm thinking this might end up being a little longer than three chapters. Hope you don't mind. Next up: fun in New Orleans and more car conversations. I hope you'll join me for the ride.**

**Please check out my other multi-chapter, "The Psychic Next Door," as well as my Season 1 episode tags from the Super Duper Tag Project. And reviews are always welcome.**


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Your reviews continue to encourage and amaze me. Thank you so much! This chapter has a lot of "M", so be warned (Or excited. Whatever ;)

**Chapter 3**

When Lisbon awoke, her eyes flew to the bedside clock: 7:38. The room was bathed in the pale pink and gold of a fading sunset. She knew a moment of disorientation as she tried to remember what had happened before she'd apparently passed out on the bed with all her clothes on. The last thing she'd remembered was lying down on this bed. After that: blessed oblivion.

Outside, she could hear the sounds of New Orleans coming to life- jazz music in the distance, the hum of many conversations, the rumble of a streetcar, occasional bursts of laughter. She turned her head and saw Jane asleep on the bed beside her. He was facing her, and while it was an extremely usual thing to see this man sleeping, she allowed herself to admire him in the dimness. The pale light from the window burnished his hair gold, and his long eyelashes rested against his high cheekbones. His full lips were slightly parted, from which his breath slipped out in soft, regular puffs. She smiled, remembering how beautifully that mouth molded to hers. If kissing him was any indication of how well they would fit together, it made her tremble inside to contemplate how amazing it would be when they finally made love. Her eyes widened at the thought. It was going to happen, of that she had no doubt. It was a little surreal to even contemplate.

"A penny for your thoughts," said Jane, his eyes still closed. She flushed.

_How the hell had he known I was awake?_

She wondered why she questioned such things anymore. Whether he admitted it or not, the man had an eerie sixth sense.

"Although, there's a place down the street that charges much more to watch thoughts like that actually acted out…"

She threw a pillow at him. He jerked in surprise, then laughed, the sound muffled beneath the white mound of cotton covered feathers. Without missing a beat, he lifted his head and tucked the new addition beneath it. He turned to look at her, love and humor warring in his sleepy green eyes.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked softly.

She grinned, then stretched and yawned loudly for emphasis. "Like a rock," she proclaimed happily. "You?"

"Very well, surprisingly, though I admit it was difficult staying on my side of the room."

She felt her cheeks go warm once more, her pulse picking up speed.

"Then why did you?" she whispered.

His eyes darkened at her words, and a new, glorious tension filled the distance between their beds.

Lisbon frowned as a memory suddenly came back to her. Her fingers went to her lips.

"Did you…_kiss_ me earlier, on this bed?"

"Having romantic dreams about me again, Lisbon?"

Her brows knit in confusion. "Well, I—"

He took pity on her. "I'm glad it was so memorable," he said wryly. "Frankly, I'm surprised you remember at all. It was like Sleeping Beauty in reverse. Somehow I don't think the handsome prince ever had that problem, at least not in the fairy tales I've read."

Her hands came up to her cheeks. "Oh, God. I fell asleep right in the middle of it, didn't I? I can't believe I was _that_ tired." She chuckled and sat up, her eyes sultry, her hair mussed from her long nap. "How can I make it up to you?"

Jane's breath hitched as she moved to his bed and leaned down to kiss him. His hand came up to hold the back of her head, and he gladly opened his mouth to receive her sensual gift. This was the first time she'd initiated such contact, and it did crazy things to his heart. Nearly overcome, he pulled her easily down to the bed, then rolled her onto her back beneath him, his mouth never leaving hers.

His weight upon her, pressing her into the mattress, felt wonderfully exciting while his hands slid into her hair, his tongue exploring every hot recess of her mouth. Her arms wrapped around him, and when she bent one knee, he gasped against her as she cradled the fullness in his slacks. He drew away from her mouth to look at her, with dazed eyes and pounding pulse. He brushed the hair back from her face and at the same time, she raised her hips a fraction. He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes while she smiled mischievously; she knew full well what she was doing to him.

Unfortunately, her growling stomach loudly broke the mood.

Jane grinned down at Lisbon's keen embarrassment.

"Let's get some food into you, woman, and then we'll continue this later."

Her stomach answered before she could. "Good idea," she said wistfully.

He kissed her softly one last time, rolled off her and onto his back. While she excused herself to the bathroom, he lay there, staring up at the ceiling, willing his breathing to slow and his arousal to lessen. But then he smiled. It had been a long time since he'd felt like this, been with a woman that he couldn't keep his hands off of. Off course, the last time had been when he was dating Angela, and in the early years of their marriage. His smile faded somewhat, but tentatively, he gauged his emotions as the once sacred memories suffused him. Taking a deep breath, Jane allowed himself to remember them fondly, and then, upon hearing Lisbon humming in the bathroom, filed them away to be revisited, and perhaps even shared, at another time.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

She found him on the balcony, a light breeze blowing in from the Mississippi, the smells of food and other unidentifiable (and not completely pleasant) odors wafting up from below. The earlier noises were even louder, and Lisbon frowned at all the people walking by with alcoholic beverages in their hands.

"We should walk to the restaurant," he told her, when she suggested they call for their car. "That's the only way to see the French Quarter. It's a place you have to experience close up."

She looked skeptically down at the street. "You sure your ankle can take it?"

"I'll be fine. We'd better go though. I was able to get us a reservation at Oceana."

"I hope it's casual. I left those dresses in my hotel room at the Blue Bird," she admitted sadly. She'd changed her blouse, but still couldn't wait to take a shower later.

He took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. "I'm sorry for that, Teresa. I know I said it before, but—"

"I'm choosing to forgive you for all that crap with the cold case and the made up letter and—and everything. That's all in the past for me. All I ask is that you promise never to manipulate me like that again, okay?"

There seemed to be no bottom to the well of her forgiveness, he thought, in awe. His eyes rested briefly on the golden cross at her neck, and he knew that her faith was where her goodness came from. He supposed there might be something to say about organized religion.

"Okay," he confirmed solemnly, meaning it with all his heart. He never wanted to see her cry again, especially not over pain he'd caused her. He kissed her tenderly to seal his promise.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Halfway to the restaurant, Jane wondered if visiting New Orleans with Lisbon had been a good idea. Despite having been to Las Vegas and Venice Beach, she still was uncomfortable around strange and raucous people. Jane, on the other hand, adored this city, probably because it reminded him a bit of a carnival. She clung closely to his side as they walked on the sidewalk, and he wasn't surprised to feel the weight of her sidearm in the holster beneath her blazer jacket.

"Relax," he said. "Enjoy the scenery."

"I do love the jazz," she admitted, as they passed by the open doors of countless bars and restaurants.

The French Quarter was beautiful and a bit mysterious, with the antebellum buildings and the secret gated courtyards surrounded by wrought iron fences and crape myrtle trees. Jane acted as unofficial tour guide, pointing out historic spots, haunted hotels, and some of the more notorious public houses. He purposefully took a meandering route to their restaurant, and they ended up in the heart of the Quarter, Jackson Square.

Jane stopped before the majestic St. Louis Cathedral. It was hauntingly beautiful, especially how it was lit at night, its towering spires reaching up into the cloudy sky, the nearby statue of Andrew Jackson casting an eerie shadow upon the historic church. Lisbon stood at the high wrought iron fence surrounding it, peering up at the cathedral in awe.

"Amazing, isn't it?" he whispered near her ear.

She nodded. "I wish we had time to go in."

"Another trip," he promised, kissing her temple.

A few moments later, she took his hand and they walked up St. Ann Street, then down the craziness that was Bourbon. At one point they saw a man lying across the sidewalk, tourists politely stepping over or walking around him. Drunks in New Orleans had a habit of staying where they passed out, and few gave notice to them, especially when there was so much else to grab one's attention in the Quarter.

Lisbon, however, was not your typical tourist. She squatted down by the man, blanching at the strong scent of rum. She felt his sweaty neck for a pulse, and satisfied that he was, in fact, alive, she looked up at an amused Jane.

"Help me move him out of the way," she said.

Jane obliged without comment, taking the drunk's feet as Lisbon took his wrists, and they dragged the poor soul against the wall beneath an awning. He didn't even stir. After a last pitying look at the drunk, she wiped her hands on her jeans, and joined Jane again on their stroll down Bourbon Street to Conti.

Jane didn't think it was possible to love her more.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

After one of the best seafood dinners she'd ever had at Oceana, complete with traditional Louisiana fare of red beans and rice and zesty jambalaya (she'd even tried crawfish and fried alligator bites, on a dare), they ventured back into the night. The air was heavy now with humidity and the scent of rain, and lightning lit the sky around them.

"We'd better get back," he warned. "The sky's about to—"

A crack of thunder made them both jump, and then laugh at their own reactions. Then the heavens opened up and the rain poured down. People shrieked and laughed all around them, rushing into bars, restaurants, and shops to escape the deluge. Jane however, smiled and turned his face up to the rain, and then in no hurry at all, he took her hand and walked leisurely toward their hotel. Within a minute they were soaked through, and Lisbon could only laugh and push back the wet hair from her eyes.

Except for a few stragglers like them, most people had taken shelter indoors or under awnings, but Jane and Lisbon, having lived so long in California, cherished the rain when they were lucky enough to see it. And New Orleans certainly wasn't disappointing them. The thunder and lightning were incredible, infusing even more tension and excitement into the air between them.

Beneath a crape myrtle tree, he drew her into his arms and kissed her, while the rain continued to sluice through the branches like water through a sieve.

"I love you, Teresa," he said after a few passionate moments, having to raise his voice to be heard over the storm. "I never believed I would make it to this place with you."

"New Orleans?" she teased, straight-faced.

And he laughed, because after all his smartass answers from the past, he certainly deserved a comeuppance. When she pulled his mouth back down to hers and embraced his wet body, he felt the answering smile in her kiss.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Wooo!" Jane exclaimed, shaking himself like a wet dog just outside their hotel. He took off his suit coat, which had offered little protection in the end, while Lisbon squeezed her hair out onto the sidewalk. The doorman laughed at the sight they presented, and as he held the door for them, together they walked into the swanky place with as much dignity as they could muster.

"Good evening," greeted the doorman.

"Isn't it though?" said Jane with a grin, and he took Lisbon's hand once more.

They dripped their way across the lobby to the elevator, and the moment the doors slid closed, he pushed her against the mirrored wall and ravaged her mouth. He found he couldn't seem to get enough of her. She tasted like sweet wine and the flavor he'd already come to know as distinctly her own, and he knew he was hopelessly and willingly addicted. And to think, he'd nearly lost his chance because of fear.

Tonight, he decided, as they entered their room, he wasn't going to let fear stand in the way of his moving on completely.

"That was crazy!" Lisbon said, toeing off her wet boots and slipping off her jacket. Jane bent to untie his water-logged shoes. He hung both their jackets on the backs of chairs to dry, well Lisbon laid her gun and holster on the nearby desk. She went to the bathroom and grabbed a couple of towels, tossing one to Jane. By then, they were both shivering in the air-conditioned room.

"I'd kill for a hot shower," she told him, blotting her face and neck. "Can I go first?"

He rubbed his towel over his hair while he walked closer to her, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "You know, we could conserve hot water if we showered together."

She blushed. "Jane."

"I'm serious," he said, his voice rough with emotion. Towel draped over his shoulders, he brought his hands to the front of her blouse, and while he stared into her eyes, he began slowly to unbutton her. "I just want to look at you," he told her, "to touch you. We don't have to go any further than that."

Despite her racing heart, she lifted a skeptical eyebrow. "Now that is a very persuasive line," she teased.

He grinned, but kept unbuttoning, his cool hands making her tremble even more as his knuckles touched the bare skin he'd revealed. He parted her blouse, his eyes dropping to her damp push-up bra and the delicately shadowed cleavage it created.

"Is it working?" he asked. His breathing was audible now, especially when she started on the buttons of his shirt.

She nodded. "Definitely."

He paused at the front closure of her bra. "Sure you can stay awake for this?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"I don't know. You'll just have to keep me fully…engaged…oh, God…"

He'd opened her bra, his answer to her jibe a gentle tweaking of her hardened nipples. Her knees nearly buckled beneath her, and he bent to tempt her more with a kiss.

It became a slow, competitive dance as they took turns undressing one another, each reveal punctuated by gasps and soft cries of pleasure. Wet clothes made things a bit more difficult. More frustrating. More arousing.

Naked at last, Jane led her by the hand to the bathroom, delighting in her pale, lightly freckled beauty.

"Do you like it hot?" he asked gruffly, fully aware of the double meaning.

"Very hot. And extremely wet."

His chuckle released a bit of the tension, and he kissed her sassy mouth once more. She smiled, remembering how they'd watched that movie together years before, their shared love of the absurd having gotten them through many a rough patch. Above all things, Jane was her friend. Now, she thought with a thrill of disbelief, he would become her lover.

He reached inside the shower stall and turned on the water full blast, as hot as he could stand it.

He was conscious of her eyes on his body, and he was glad that his two years on the island had gotten him into the best shape of his life. His tan had faded, but he'd kept up his habit of walking the streets of Austin for miles every day he could, though it was no longer near the pounding surf. He swam a few times a week in the FBI gym, though he missed the sting of salt in his eyes. Lisbon seemed to like what she was seeing, he noted happily, although she blushed when he caught her staring at his erection.

He indicated the shower stall with a gentlemanly wave of his hand. "Ladies first."

She moaned in pleasure as the hot water hit her cold skin. "Get in here, Jane. This is wonderful."

She didn't have to invite him twice. He closed the glass door behind him with a click, then took her in his arms in the cramped enclosure, the water warming him almost as quickly as the feel of their slick, naked bodies pressing together. For the second time that evening, they kissed beneath a shower of water, but this time his hands moved to her bare buttocks, pushing her closer to his hardness; he moaned into her mouth at the sweet beauty of it.

They learned each other's bodies with soapy hands, gliding over planes and valleys until neither of them could bare the torture any longer. He brought her to release with his fingers, her hands on his shoulders for support, his mouth silencing her cries of ecstasy.

He wouldn't let her return the favor, moving her talented hands away just as he was on the brink.

"Later," he whispered tightly.

Jane secretly feared that if he came too soon, he wouldn't be able to pleasure her again later in bed. He had been celibate so long that he was surprised he'd held out in the shower as long as he had. As much as he wanted her, he didn't know how much stamina he could muster under the circumstances.

With a final rinse of their hair and body, Jane turned off the water. He stepped out first, unfurling a fluffy towel from the rack to greet her on her way out. She walked into it gratefully, her skin pink and glowing from the heat and the pleasure he had given her. He massaged her body dry with the towel before handing her a thick robe from the back of the door. He repeated the same actions upon himself while she watched, coiling the towel about her wet hair. Seeing him slick back his wet hair with his hands was one of the sexiest things she'd ever seen. He caught her eyes and grinned knowingly.

"Would you like a drink from the mini bar?" he asked, belting his robe with shaking hands. She noticed right away and wondered at it. Perhaps a drink would help relax him.

"Sure. Wine if they have it."

They left the steamy bathroom for the coolness of the bedroom.

Jane bent to open the small refrigerator. "I'll go you one better—they have champagne!" He held up two little bottles triumphantly. She smiled at his boyish excitement. They sat on her bed, drinking the sparkling wine from plastic cups while occasional thunder shook the French doors, rain pattering hard against the glass.

"Guess we won't be driving tonight in this mess," he said, not even trying to hide how happy he was about this development. As far as he was concerned, the attempted robbery and now the storm had been blessings in disguise. Maybe there _was_ a God.

"Abbott's going to be pissed. No dawdling, he'd said."

"Meh. Don't believe his tough guy routine. Like I told you before, he wants us to cement your staying on in Austin. What could be better for his cause than a night stuck in a hotel room in romantic New Orleans?"

The champagne was doing the trick, and Jane seemed much calmer. His warm, steady hand came up to rest on her bare knee, fingers circling there a moment before sliding beneath her robe and trailing up her inner thigh. She shuddered at his touch, closing her eyes as the molten sensation she'd felt in the shower returned.

He tossed their empty cups into the wastebasket, and she lay back on the bed, watching him beneath lowered lids as he unwrapped her from her robe like a gift.

"Teresa," he breathed, "you are more beautiful than I ever imagined."

Her eyes opened a bit wider. "You imagined me naked?"

His eyes glittered wickedly. "Of course I did. I'm a man, aren't I?"

He caressed her breasts, cupping them with both hands, gauging her reaction by the new flush that spread up from her chest to her cheeks. Then his hands stilled.

"You couldn't tell I wanted you?"

"You gave nothing away," she told him. "If you'd only given me the slightest bit of encouragement, I would have attacked you on your couch."

He grinned. "And I would have let you."

His hands moved to her flat stomach, caressing the smooth muscles there, loving how they tightened at his touch. He paused again at her bikini line, tracing the trimmed, vertical strip of hair that began there and led his eyes to her core like an arrow.

"No you wouldn't," she argued. "You would have recoiled in maidenly alarm."

One finger followed the soft path to its end, and he stopped again, petting her lightly, experimentally.

He chuckled at her words. "Maybe at first," he conceded. "But I would have gone with it eventually, believe me."

Frustrated by his teasing fingers, she sat up now, her hands going to the belt of his robe. "I guess we'll never know," she whispered, untying him.

She released the loose knot and let his robe fall open, pleased to see his erection was alive and well. She looked up at him as her hands went round to his firm behind, felt him hold his breath, then release it in a shuddering sigh as she moved her head forward and took him into her mouth.

"Teresa," he moaned, letting her bring him to the edge before begging her to stop.

She continued a few more seconds, just to enjoy her newfound power over him, but he was too far gone to appreciate her amusement. He suddenly became like a man possessed, taking complete control, which she relinquished joyfully, reveling in knowing at last how much he wanted her.

Before she could comprehend what had happened, she was on her back again, both their robes gone, his body covering hers. He kissed her lips, delved deeply into her mouth before moving to her neck, then lower, taking the tips of her breasts into his mouth. He suckled her until she couldn't breathe, till she was the one pleading for relief.

Before he took her, he made himself pause to look at her, to make himself savor the moment when she became his completely. Her eyes were glassy with desire, her breasts rapidly rising and falling, her damp hair curling around her flushed face. Twelve years had led to this moment, though neither of them had ever believed it was inevitable. It had been twelve years of friendship, of secret longing, of fear, of heartbreak, of forgiveness. They knew each other better than anyone, the good and the bad, their faults and foibles. And no matter what life or Red John or the FBI had thrown at them, their unspoken bond had held them together, time and distance only strengthening it.

He reached between them, grasping himself and rubbing against her swollen sex, his eyes still holding hers in thrall. He knew she was very close as well, and sweat broke out all over his body as he forced himself to enter her slowly, his hands moving up to lace with hers.

She bent her knees so he could go even deeper, and she cried out when he made it all the way home. He kissed her again, and then, tentatively at first, he began to move. It took them only a moment to find their rhythm, and then it became as easy as breathing. She rose to meet each measured thrust, gasping with indescribable pleasure as he withdrew and plunged in again. He held her gaze the entire time, and neither of them could remember ever feeling so close, so in sync with another human being.

Her climax was sudden and strong, her internal convulsions spurring his at the same time. Their echoing cries filled the room as he rocked into her, his frantic movements enhancing and prolonging their ecstasy. She saw flashes of sparkling light, tasted copper in the back of her throat—things she had only read about in romance novels, had never believed were truly possible. Why was she surprised that with Jane, _nothing_ was impossible? His hands squeezed hers almost painfully before he collapsed upon her, panting heavily in her ear.

When his fingers finally relaxed their grip, her hands came up to embrace him, holding him tightly. She whispered her love for him as she closed her eyes and tried to fathom how deeply she was moved. She didn't know how much time had passed before he withdrew from her body, only to rest his head on her breasts with a contented sigh. At first she thought it was just the dampness of his hair she was feeling on her skin, but she was amazed to discover it was the warm wetness of tears. Had this been too soon? Was he regretting things already?

"Patrick?"

He must have felt the anxious jump of her heart beneath his ear, for he moved his head to look at her. He was a little embarrassed to be caught crying in bed, but he wanted to reassure her that he was all right—more than all right.

He grinned and she reached up to smooth back his hair in relief. He pressed his lips to hers, the sweetness of it bringing forth her own tears.

"Say it again," he said. She smirked at the familiar words.

"My first name," he clarified. "I've never heard you say it in quite that way."

It was true. She had only used it to introduce him to others, or when they were undercover and using only last names would give them away. She blushed.

"I don't know if I can. You'll always be Jane to me, I'm afraid."

"And I don't know if I can stop calling you Teresa now."

"Now that's not very professional," she chided in amusement. "What will people say?"

"That I'm banging the Austin office's newest agent?"

He read the intent in her eyes, and stopped her hand before she could smack him. He laughed, a warm, gleeful sound, full of masculine satisfaction, and brought her hand to his lips, thoroughly enjoying the murderous look in her eye.

"I'm kidding," he said. "I'll endeavor to call you Lisbon at work, reserving Teresa for much more…_personal_ moments."

"Thank you…_Patrick_." He had to admit he loved a sassy woman.

She could feel his renewed desire, and she arched an eyebrow wryly. "Don't tell me it excited you whenever I've threatened to hit you in the past."

He grinned, and rubbed against her, pleasantly surprised to discover he might not have been as old and out of practice as he'd thought.

"I guess that's something _you'll _never know, dear Lisbon."

Her snappy comeback was muffled by the passion of his kiss.

**A/N: Sorry I didn't get more car conversation in this chapter, but as I've said, there will be more to come. Thanks for reading. I'd love for you to review.**

**PS: The conclusion of "The Psychic Next Door" will be up soon!**


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Great reviews, everyone! Thanks so much! Picking up the next morning in this extra-long chapter, then a continuation of the trip, with more of the promised car conversation, in which I try to fill in some blanks in Jane and Lisbon's past…

**Chapter 4**

Lisbon awoke for the second time that morning to the smell of strong coffee and something enticingly warm and sweet. Her eyes remained closed as she inhaled the ambrosia. She felt the mattress give a bit as Jane kneeled upon it to kiss her, and the scent of his familiar cologne suffused her senses.

"Good morning, my love," he whispered against her lips.

"Hmm."

He chuckled softly at her sleepy response, then dropped a kiss on her nose before standing and going to the balcony doors. He opened them to the fresh morning air, washed clean and fresh by the night's storm. The curtains billowed gently in the light breeze, and diffused sunlight bathed the room.

He brought her robe and laid it on the bed beside her.

"Get up and have the most incredible coffee in the world," he said.

She opened one eye. "You hate coffee; how would you know?"

"I don't _hate_ coffee; I just prefer tea. And that stuff you police types mainline tastes like mud. This," he said taking the lid off one of the to-go cups he'd bought and inhaling dramatically—"is what coffee is supposed to taste like."

She sat up, drawn to the intensified scent. "It does smell incredible." She grabbed the robe and Jane paused to watch the show of her wrapping it round her naked body. She met his darkened eyes and blushed in shared memory of all they had done last night, not to mention how he'd awakened her the first time an hour before.

He led her to the small table on the balcony, placing the coffee in her hand and carrying his own, along with the small paper sack with the logo Café Beignet. She sat and took a tentative sip while he unpacked napkins and the contents of the bag.

"Wow? What is this?" This was her reaction to the coffee.

"You like it?"

"Yes…it's different. Very nice. And you know I don't usually take coffee with milk, but this is really good."

He sat and smugly sipped his own. "That's because its chicory and coffee—au lait."

"Chicory?" she looked down at the creamy brew. "Wow." She looked critically at the pastries liberally dusted with powdered sugar that he'd set on napkins.

"Square donuts?"

"Aw, but unlike any donut you have ever tasted. Beignets." She looked skeptical. Cops knew their donuts, cliché though it may sound. She picked it up. It was still warm. It melted beautifully in her mouth, leaving behind a white, powdery mustache.

"Mmmm," she said, closing her eyes and chewing.

Jane smiled. She'd made that same noise earlier, when he'd found just the right place with his tongue. Unable to resist, he leaned across the table and licked at a bit of sugar at the corner of her mouth. Her eyes flew open at his surprising proximity.

"Mmm," he echoed, "as delicious as I remember."

He sat back in his chair, his eyes sparkling at her flustered expression. Jane wondered if he'd ever get used to seeing her this way- hair all mussed, cheeks a delicate pink, her chest at the _V _of her robe still showing the red abrasions his two-day beard had left. She was more beautiful than he'd ever seen her, even as she fought a futile battle with the messy powdered sugar.

When they'd finished their first beignet, he fished out the others he'd bought, knowing how both of them had worked up quite an appetite. He smiled around a mouthful.

"What time is it?" she mused, sipping her coffee and looking out at the nearly empty street. A few shopkeepers were out, sweeping the sidewalk in front of their businesses, along with the occasional tourist, carrying familiar paper sacks of their own.

"It's almost eight," he said. He tensed, fully expecting a loud exclamation of annoyance, then a mad dash to get dressed and get on the road again.

"Hm," she said calmly, surprising him once more. "I suppose we should get ready to go soon."

"Probably," he said, though he leisurely sipped his coffee and enjoyed the fact that neither of them were making any moves to leave this spot. He reached a powdery hand over to hold hers. "But I'd be happy to stay here with you forever, stuffing ourselves on beignets and shrimp etouffee."

She smiled. "Sounds like heaven to me."

He raised an eyebrow. "So you like New Orleans after all, eh?"

"New Orleans is okay, if you discount the drunks and the freak storms and the strange smells. No…it's the hotels I like the most. Specifically, the hotel _beds_. Oh, and the showers. The showers are pretty nice too…"

With each word, Jane's eyes softened more, until by the end of her teasing speech she could see the love written there so plainly, it seized her breath, made her heart beat joyfully. Saying nothing, he set down his coffee, stood, and pulled her into his arms. He embraced her small body, made bulkier by the fluffy terrycloth robe.

"I can't believe this," he whispered in her hair. "That we are here, that you are mine."

"I know what you mean. I've dreamed of this so long, it still feels a little bit…overwhelming."

"Yes," he agreed, his voice breaking a little, amazed that she understood exactly what he meant.

It was surreal, but it was so incredibly right, so easy, it almost seemed like they'd been together this way forever. They'd both been in love before, and Jane had never thought he'd find someone he loved more than he had Angela. Part of admitting his feelings for Lisbon had been accepting that they weren't just in his lonely imagination, that he was allowed to love someone besides his wife.

His love for Lisbon was very different from what he'd felt for Angela. It was deeper, Jane could guiltlessly admit now. When he and Angela had fallen in love, it had been fast and incendiary, as love often was when you are kids. With Lisbon, it was something that had slowly simmered for years, had grown from friendship to a deep, abiding love, richer and more mature. Because he'd lost Angela, he appreciated Lisbon even more than he had his wife. Now that they'd confessed their true feelings, he wasn't about to waste any more time on regrets or allow any obstacles—self-imposed or otherwise—to come between them now.

As if reading _his_ thoughts for a change, she hugged him more tightly.

"I love you," she said. "I don't want anything to mess this up—especially not ourselves."

He laughed softly, pulling back to look at her, to smooth back her charmingly messy hair.

"That is the danger, isn't it? Over-thinking things. We're both over-thinkers, aren't we?"

She grinned at the truth of it. "Yes. We have to decide that nothing is more important than us. If we are going to make this work, we have to promise not to hide what we're feeling and thinking from each other. It's not going to be easy—"

"Not at first, perhaps," he conceded. "But I'm up for it. I've waited twelve years for this. Trust me; you are my number one priority—nothing else even comes close."

It was true. Red John was gone. His ring was gone. He was free to make her his new obsession, and for the first time in a very long time, he could say it was a healthy one.

"Same here," she said, and it was true for her too.

Being let go from her position as team leader with the CBI had been heartbreaking and scary for a woman used to being in control. Now, with the FBI, she was no longer the boss, and it was surprisingly liberating. She neither wanted nor needed all the responsibility anymore. Her job used to be the most important thing in her life; she was happy to have Jane take that position now. She'd never felt free enough to let herself have this kind of a relationship before, but she was confident enough in her feelings—and in his—to embrace love fully and completely.

He reached for their coffee cups, putting hers back in her hand.

"To new priorities," he toasted, and she touched his cup in agreement.

"New priorities."

They each took a sip of their chicory coffee, and another kiss sealed the deal.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

There were still eight hours left until Austin, and the highway stretched out before them like a long, gray ribbon. For once, Lisbon gladly let Jane drive, and she settled into the passenger's seat armed with another cup of coffee.

"Okay, Lisbon. Tell me everything about yourself."

She rolled her eyes. "Jane, you already know everything about me. And what you don't know, you can probably deduce with your superhuman powers of observation."

He rolled his eyes. "After the past month of not reading you correctly, I think it's apparent you are the lone chink in my armor—my own personal Kryptonite," he said wryly.

She smiled, shaking her head at him. "Well that's flattering, I guess. What specifically do you want to know?"

"Hmm…tell me about all your former lovers."

"_All?_ Gee, we only have eight hours until Austin…"

"Come on, Lisbon, I'm not implying you're a loose woman, not by any means—"

"Well, that's a relief."

"—but I think it's perfectly natural that I am a bit curious."

She sighed. "Okay, but only if you share your past with equal candor."

He raised an eyebrow. "You sure you really want to know about that?"

"Of course. It's only fair."

"Well, okay then, but don't say I didn't warn you. Now stop procrastinating and get on with it."

"Well, first there was Justin. That was first grade. He was so cute, with the biggest blue—"

"You can skip ahead just a little, Lisbon, as charming as Justin was, I'm sure. Why don't you start with Mr. Trans Am?"

She smirked. "That would be Ryan. I thought I was in love. I was seventeen and stupid, and he had a nice car, was captain of the football team. You can guess the rest."

"He dumped you for a cheerleader?"

"Exactly. I guess dating a band nerd was quite a blow to his reputation. I was devastated of course. I didn't go out again for a year, but that was partly because Dad died, and I had a few new responsibilities. Greg Tayback really stepped up and helped me out with my little brothers. Helped them with their hockey practices, and football. I don't think I could have gotten through that time without him."

"Ah," he said.

"What does that mean?"

"You felt beholden to him."

"Yes, but that wasn't the only attraction," she said, a little defensively. "He was blonde and beautiful and my first adult relationship. We dated through college. I was going to marry him, or so I said when I accepted his ring. But I left him and Chicago the day after graduation, went to the bus station and took the first bus that would take me the farthest away. By then, Tommy was old enough to take care of the other two, and I told him it was his turn. I arrived in California three days later, with a hundred bucks and only what I could carry in a duffle bag. I applied to the police academy, and the rest is history."

"Why did you leave him? He seemed like a good man." Both of them were painfully aware of how they'd described Pike in that exact way.

"Because I knew he wasn't the one," she replied. "Greg wanted me to be a housewife and mother—nothing wrong with that, of course, but it wasn't for me. I wanted to be a cop. Besides, I already felt like I'd raised a family with my little brothers, and I was anxious to be free to live my own life for a change."

"Greg must have been really torn up that you'd left him. I totally get that, Teresa. I almost lost you, and it was painful, let me tell you."

When they'd met Greg twenty years late, Jane could see that he'd still held a torch for her, poor sap. That could very easily have been him, he realized.

He glanced sidelong at her, reached over and touched her hand. "But I don't mean for you to feel guilty. You shouldn't stay with a man you don't really love. Seems to me he got what he wanted eventually."

"What I did to Greg was terrible. I tried to explain myself, but I knew he didn't really understand. I was a coward and I ran away, because I feared he would change my mind. I guess I pretty much did the same thing with Marcus."

"With Greg, you were young. With Marcus, well, he was pushing you into something you really weren't ready for with him. And besides, you loved someone else more."

She squeezed his hand. "True, on both counts, but that's no excuse. Thanks for trying to justify my horrendous behavior, but I'm going to have to find a way to forgive myself for needlessly hurting two wonderful men. I promise you, Jane, past is not prologue with me, not where you're concerned. I have no doubts about you or about us, not anymore."

"I'm glad to hear that. Not that it doesn't scare me a little," he teased. "Love 'em and leave 'em Lisbon."

"Oh, stop."

He grinned, happy that he really felt no doubts about her either. "You got out of order a bit, Lisbon. Who was after Greg?"

She blushed. "No one serious, I'm afraid. I became all about the career, going out with the occasional guy from another department, or there was the one I met in church. He seemed promising, but a little too devoted, if you want to know the truth."

Jane laughed. "Let me guess—he was strictly missionary position, in every sense of the word."

She had to laugh too, though it certainly wasn't funny at the time. "It took me six months to even get him in bed, and then I felt like I'd corrupted him or something. The guilt was terrible, but the sex was worse."

He grinned, and then a delicious thought occurred to him. "Don't tell me—you drove him into the priesthood."

"Oh, God," she said, her hands going to her face in embarrassment. "It's not funny."

Jane laughed until there were tears in his eyes, and he held onto the steering wheel with one had so he could wipe them.

"Shut up," she said, but she was smiling too. "And watch where you're going."

"Oh, Lisbon, that's a sad, sad tale indeed."

"The worst moment was when I saw him in church two years later," she added sheepishly. "I had to change parishes. I couldn't get over the fact I knew what the priest looked like under his cassock."

He chuckled. "You're not exactly the fairy tale ending type of girl, are you?"

"Well, not until now."

He lifted his hand to her cheek, tempted to pull over and kiss her. "Good to know…Okay, next? But how could you possibly top that?"

"I can't really. Things pretty well dried up after that. Occasional dates, nothing remotely serious. I'm ashamed to admit there were a couple of one-night-stands."

"A woman has needs too, Lisbon. Don't be ashamed."

"I am, a little. But by then I had met you, and somehow you seemed to take over every aspect of my life. No one I met outside of work could compare with you. No one stimulated me—"

He raised an eyebrow.

"_Mentally_," she clarified, "like you could. No one was as-well, as handsome as you, to risk boosting your already over-inflated ego. Every man paled by comparison. I knew I couldn't have you, and I was lonely sometimes, but I contented myself with seeing you every day, with working with you, with being your friend, with putting away the bad guys. It wasn't enough, but I convinced myself that it was. And until Marcus and now you, that pretty well covers my ill-fated love life."

He pondered her words, wishing he would have been in an emotional place to comfort her at the time. He'd known there was a mutual attraction between Lisbon and himself, and sometimes he'd flirted with her because he couldn't help himself. He knew she loved him, but he hadn't felt worthy of that love. He'd been pathetic and self-loathing and she'd deserved much better. He still thought that to some degree, but she had chosen him, and he was finished trying to second-guess her decisions.

"You forgot to mention one important little affair, which you attempted to hide from me, though I might add you were quite unsuccessful at it," he said. He'd been waiting for this particular confession, and was happy to call her on it now he finally had the chance.

"I don't know who you mean," she lied, staring straight out the front windshield.

He tsked softly. "Now, Lisbon. The truth will set you free, you know. And we are in fact in a moving vehicle…"

"Jane."

"Lisbon."

"All right, I admit it—I slept with Walter Mashburn. On a few occasions."

"A few?"

"Whenever he was in town that year. Then it sort of fizzled out. I wasn't terribly disappointed."

"I thought you were there that night I came to his hotel room in San Francisco. I smelled your perfume," he said. "I had no idea about the other times. Huh. You surprise me, Lisbon."

He had to admit that it hurt a little, even though he'd practically pushed her into the billionaire's arms. He'd liked Mashburn, found him mentally challenging and amusing. He was a total cad, but Jane certainly had no room to judge. He'd sensed their affinity for one another, and Mashburn had made no secret of his interest in Lisbon. Jane had encouraged it because he wanted Lisbon to have a little fun. He hadn't thought Mashburn would stay interested for long, but he'd underestimated Lisbon's charms, even with a confirmed playboy.

"You never said anything," she said, "I mean, about being there the first time."

"None of my business."

"Sort of like now," she pointed out.

"Hey, you agreed to play this game…"

"I didn't want to say anything at the time because you two were friends, in a weird sort of way. I thought it would be too…awkward."

"It would have been," Jane admitted. "I was already terribly jealous when I figured out you were with him that night."

"I'm sorry."

"Water under the bridge, Teresa. I'd like to think everyone we've been with has prepared us for each other. It's just interesting to finally be able to talk about this stuff."

"It's a way to get closer," she agreed. "To build trust."

"And sometimes we've needed a little help in that department, so this is good, right?"

"Right."

She smiled reassuringly, feeling like she'd just passed a major exam. Now, however, it was his turn to be tested. She hoped she could handle what he told her with as much understanding as he'd shown her.

"I suppose it's my turn now?"

"Yes. Have at it. From the top, just like me. Shall we start with Karen, Hollywood sign girl?"

"We could, but she was actually number two."

"Oh."

He chuckled at her surprise. Well, he thought, she was about to become downright shocked.

"Number one was a woman about ten years my senior. She was an acrobat in the carnival sideshow."

"Jane—that's child abuse!" she exclaimed, outraged for the young boy he used to be.

He shrugged. "Let's just say I lied about my age, and she didn't check my ID. And she was a fine teacher—very bendy."

"Sheesh," she said under her breath.

He grinned. "After her and Karen, I uh, sort of lost count. Sowed lots of wild oats, you could say. Until I met Angela, when I was about twenty. Her father bought out the carnival Dad and I were traveling with. It wasn't exactly love at first sight."

Lisbon sat very still, listening intently. He'd rarely spoken about his wife, and she was intrigued to hear anything he had to say about this mysterious paragon.

"But eventually we fell in love, shared a mutual dislike for our controlling fathers, and ran away together. The rest you know," he said, ending on that. Of course, she only knew the facts of their lives together; she still didn't know much about their actual relationship, except that he obviously had loved Angela and their daughter very much. She waited for more information, but it wasn't forthcoming. He was doling it out to her in small doses, she realized, probably more for his own comfort level than for hers. But she decided to be patient and not push him by asking questions; maybe he'd tell her more sometime.

"What about Sophie Miller? Did you and she ever-?"

"No. She was my doctor. I formed a certain…attachment to her, maybe a bit of a crush. But she was always very professional. And then she died because of me."

"She died because Red John murdered her," she said. "It wasn't your fault. Look, I'm sorry. We don't have to go on with this. Let's talk about something else."

Lisbon was starting to have serious doubts about turnabout being fair play with Jane, when it came to his past relationships. None of them seemed to have ended well.

"No, it's good for me to talk about this stuff. I should have trusted you more with my feelings over the years, but I wanted to spare you. And frankly, I was a bit ashamed of the way I handled some things."

"What about Kristina Frye? You seemed genuinely interested in her."

"I was, I suppose. She challenged me and infuriated me at the same time. I only went out with her because Madeline Hightower encouraged me."

"Hightower? Really?"

Jane grinned. "Yep. Good old Madeline. Always looking out for me."

"Wow. I had no idea. But you actually dated Kristina, didn't you? That was a big step for you."

"We went out once, Teresa. I wasn't ready. I nearly had a panic attack at the restaurant, I was so unready."

"I'm sorry, Jane," she said, meaning it.

"Nothing to be sorry about, Lisbon, except that her involvement with me, no matter how brief, led to her mental incapacitation at Red John's hands. You can see why I was a bit hesitant to allow myself to get close to anyone, especially not to you, Teresa."

"It's understandable, Jane. I should have realized why you took so long to tell me your true feelings. I'm sorry I was so tough on you about it."

"Thanks, but I was definitely being a coward where you were concerned, no excuses. I haven't loved any other woman after Angela, except you. I'm glad you gave me a chance, or I don't know what I might have done."

"You mean, something more stupid than boarding a plane illegally?"

He nodded solemnly, and she knew he wasn't joking. His eyes found hers and held them for a weighted moment, and she saw in them the fear and panic he must have felt when she'd left him for the airport. In hindsight, she shouldn't have been surprised he'd risked getting arrested or possibly even death to get to her, but she'd been so angry and hurt, she hadn't been thinking at all beyond getting the hell away from him. And what might he have done if he hadn't mustered the nerve to chase after her? He might have disappeared once more, this time for good. She felt a chill at the very thought of it.

"None of that is important now," she said. "None of my former lovers, none of yours since your wife…it's just us now. It was only the two of us in that bed last night—"

"And this morning," he added, some of his usual humor returning.

She blushed. "Yes. We seriously don't need to talk about anyone else anymore."

"Scared?" he asked, a challenge in his voice.

"Yes," she admitted.

Lisbon thought of the two other women he was involved with that they hadn't talked about yet, and she definitely wasn't looking forward to the rest of this awkward stroll down Memory Lane. He'd warned her, after all.

"Well, I'm sure you know who's next, Lisbon. Shall we continue?"

She took a deep breath. "If you insist."

"I do. Now…Erica Flynn…" Her tension became palpable in the small car, and he grinned.

"Oh, I definitely have some questions about her," she said in annoyance.

"I'm sure you do."

And so she asked him straight out. "Did you sleep with her?"

"No. She kissed me though—a couple of times."

"She turned you on, didn't she?"

He let out a bark of surprised laughter. "She _was_ a looker. Very sexy. A very devious mind, too, which I'm ashamed to admit has always been a turn-on for me."

"I got that," she said coldly.

"I wouldn't have slept with her, Teresa," he said seriously. "She was responsible for the murder of her husband. I don't much care for cold-hearted bitches."

"But you were tempted none the less."

"I'd be lying if I denied it. But I didn't initiate anything with her. I was trying to get into her head, not in her bed." He laughed a little at his unintended rhyme. Lisbon didn't join in.

"Tell me the truth now, once and for all. Did you help her escape?"

He sighed. "Once and for all, Teresa, I didn't help her. I admit to being impressed that she'd fooled me, but no, I had nothing to do with her escape. She actually called me later to taunt me about it."

"You should have told me about that, Jane. We might have been able to trace her call."

He shook his head. "Doubtful. I'm sure it was somewhere tropical and expensive, and she's changed her name and hooked up with some foreign sugar daddy or two. You could probably find her now by looking up unexplained deaths of wealthy men in the Caribbean, or maybe the Mediterranean. A real black widow, that dame."

Lisbon rolled her eyes. "Well, I have no desire to look for her. Good riddance."

"You were really jealous of Erica, weren't you?"

"Yes, I was, and sounds like with good reason. But mostly I was worried about her corrupting you, or worse."

He grinned. "Nice to know you cared."

"Hmph," she said, crossing her arms across her chest.

They were quiet a moment. "I suppose now we must talk about Lorelei."

"No, we mustn't," she said coolly.

"I admit this will be very difficult to discuss with you, Teresa. I did some things that I'm definitely not proud of. I lied to you. But this just shows how desperate and obsessed I'd been to get Red John. I literally would have done anything to get to him, even sleep with the enemy. And I went into it knowing all along she was working for Red John. But I'd be lying though if I said I wouldn't have done it all again."

"I know," she said softly. "But this one hurt, Jane, more than I'd like to admit. I thought you had fallen in love with her, that your judgment had been impaired. It frightened me, the lengths you were willing to go to. Above everything, I feared she'd literally be the death of you."

"And she almost was, on a couple of occasions. But at the risk of stirring up old anger and resentments, I'd like to come clean on a few things."

"All right," she said, in resignation. He glanced at her, hating seeing the worry and doubt in her eyes.

"First of all, I never loved her. I admit I was physically attracted, maybe felt a bit of empathy with her when I found out what Red John had done to her sister. But I only slept with her once, and that was just to convince Red John I was totally beaten down and ready to come over to the dark side. And she didn't kidnap me later, Lisbon. Brett Stiles owed me a favor and broke her out of jail for me. I set up the whole ruse to fool the cops—unfortunately that meant fooling you too, and for that I am sorry."

She hadn't known Stiles had been in on it. She was surprised by that, though not surprised at the extent of the cult leader's power and influence.

"I figured out what you'd done with the kidnapping, Jane, later. And I hated you for it. Hated that you could lie again, that you would let me think you were really in danger—"

"Well, technically I was. She kicked the hell out of me when she figured out I'd lied to her too, and she could have contacted Red John anytime, turned me over to him on a silver platter. But your anger and betrayal are perfectly justified."

"And you let her escape from the cabin, too, didn't you?"

"Yes. And I uh—crashed the car into that tree on purpose."

"Dear God, Jane, you could have killed yourself. Why didn't you just have her tie you up or something?"

He shook his head. "It had to be beyond reproach. No one would have believed in a million years that even I would have done that much damage to myself on her behalf."

"I would have believed it," she said. "I actually suspected."

He smiled without humor. "I thought you did. And later, any feelings of pity or empathy I might have had for her were gone when she betrayed me in the end, wouldn't tell me Red John's real name, wanted to go after him without me, after all I'd done to help her. I underestimated her desire for revenge—a huge mistake on my part."

"Yes. And she paid the ultimate price too, didn't she?"

"Well deserved. She was an even bigger murderer than I am," he said dryly. " I guess her story should have been a cautionary tale for me, but I couldn't let it go—couldn't let Red John go. I had to end this on my terms. I'm not the least bit sorry I killed him, Lisbon, although two years apart was my own price to pay."

"Which I paid too, I might add. But that too, is over. I'm glad you told me the truth finally, as painful as it was to hear. But I'd already forgiven you for everything I'd known, and for even stuff I hadn't known for sure. I imagine it feels good to get it all off your chest."

His smile was genuine now. "It is, and I'm grateful for your forgiving spirit, more than you know. Soon, we'll be able to say we have no secrets between us, Teresa. I'm looking forward to starting afresh with you."

"Me too." She let out a relieved breath. "Is that all of your former lovers now? Because, to tell you the truth, I'm not sure I can take much more of this fun car game." Before he could reply, a disturbing thought occurred to her. She frowned. "I suppose there are those two years on the island unaccounted for…"

"Yes, that's true," he said, his tone becoming heavy with dread. "I suppose this is what I've feared telling you about the most—even more than talking about Lorelei. I'm afraid I sort of went crazy for awhile on that island. A different native girl every night-I guess it was being totally free for the first time in ten years. I did things I'd never done before. Orgies. Bondage. Strange island mating rituals…I even wore a sarong…"

Her eyes had gone wide with shock, and then she saw the twinkle in his eye as he glanced over to see her reaction. She punched him in the arm, hard.

"You pig!"

He laughed, his left hand gingerly rubbing his injury, while his right stayed precariously on the wheel. The car swerved dangerously.

"Ow! What do you want to do, cause an accident?"

But he continued to smile while she fumed a few minutes more.

"That was mean," she said finally.

"I'll say. I'll have a bruise the size of an island coconut."

"Shut up. You deserved it."

They were quiet a few minutes, and then he saw Lisbon grinning secretly to herself behind her hand. She never could resist his charming sense of humor.

"Honestly, Lisbon, on the island I lived even more like a monk than I had been in California. I walked for hours on the beach every day, mainly thinking about you. Missing you. But you read all that in the letters I sent. Sometimes being without you was unbearable, and you don't know how many times I contemplated calling you, or even hopping on the next flight to Washington. But Sam and Pete had told me you were settled into a good job, starting a new life. I didn't want to mess things up for you again."

"The letters helped," she said. "I've kept them all, read them countless times. But I can't tell you how many times I thought of holding a gun to Pete's head and forcing him to tell me exactly where you were. I had dreams of joining you there, of staying with you, even if it meant I'd become a fugitive too."

"You would have hated it, after awhile. Resented the life you'd given up. You were meant to be a cop, Lisbon. You were lucky you could remain one, after all that you did to help me."

"You're probably right. I really hate the beach."

He smiled. "See. It all worked out for the best."

"Eventually."

"Good things come to those who wait, etcetera, etcetera."

She put her hand on his cheek. "And we've waited far too long, don't you think?"

He kissed her hand, then held it gently across the console.

"Most definitely," he said softly. "And, speaking of waiting, I really need to make a pit stop. I'm not used to drinking coffee in the morning."

She chuckled. "You and your wimpy tea. Why, I can hold out through an entire pot of coffee without going."

He put on his blinker for the next exit. "That's an impressive skill you have there, Lisbon. Sorry if I'm going to bow out gracefully from that particular road game."

"Wimp," she taunted again.

"If the bladder fits…"

"Okay, but after we stop, it's my turn to drive," she countered.

"I've only been driving for two hours, Lisbon. Can't you reign in your control freakery for a few more miles?"

"_Control freakery_? Need I remind you that we don't have to travel at light speed to make it to Austin in good time. It won't do anyone any good if we don't arrive in one piece. You still are the worst driver…"

And their old, good-natured argument continued, both of them finding an odd kind of comfort in their familiar banter.

**A/N: Almost there! One more chapter and they'll have reached Austin. Hope you've enjoyed the journey so far. I'd love for you to review, and please log in if you do. I can't reply to your questions personally if you don't log in. Thanks as always for reading!**

**And please check out waterbaby134's wonderful epilogue to our collaborative fic, "Eyes Like the Sea." You can find it listed under her name. Or, if you haven't read it yet, it's now complete, so have fun with it—we did :).**


	5. Conclusion

A/N: Last chapter, folks, and this one has more conversation, and a bit more M there at the end. Thanks to those who reviewed, favorited, and followed. I'm so stoked that you have been enjoying this!

**Chapter 5**

Lisbon took the keys out of the ignition the moment Jane turned off the engine at the gas station, but he easily picked her pocket when he pushed her against the driver's side of the Camry and kissed the breath out of her.

When she realized she'd been tricked, she'd had a few choice words for him, her face already flushed from their fevered kisses.

"And to think I just kissed that dirty mouth," he tsked. "Sorry, Lisbon," he'd said, holding the keys above her reach. "Still my turn. This is an equal partnership, remember?"

"Equal? Ha. Since when?" She stomped around to the passenger side, waiting in annoyance as he unlocked the door.

When they were both inside, he started the car and they were off once more.

"Since you were no longer designated my boss, remember? Not that you ever were, not really…"

"Yes, for your information I really was, at the CBI. You just conveniently ignored the official hierarchy."

"True…but I'll let you be the boss in bed, if you like." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Her heart skipped a beat at his low, sexy tone, but she maintained her grumpy expression. "Can I get that in writing?"

He put a hand on his chest dramatically. "It's written on my heart, my love."

She rolled her eyes and took out her smartphone to check her e-mail, and Jane began whistling softly under his breath as the miles passed by.

"Hey," she said suddenly. "This might be fun: _10 Fun Questions to Ask Your Boyfriend. _It was a forward from Van Pelt."

Jane stared straight out the window. "I suppose those were meant for you to ask Marcus."

"Yes," she admitted with a twinge of guilt. "But he's not my boyfriend anymore, is he?"

Jane glanced her way. "No, I suppose not." Then his smile returned. "Is that what I am now? Your _boyfriend?_ Rather a juvenile term, don't you think?"

She blushed a little. "Well, what would you like me to call you? My _lover_?"

"Too European."

"My boo?" she said with a smirk.

"Too hip-hop."

"My partner?"

"Too businessy"

"Significant other?"

"Too impersonal."

"My beau?" she suggested, batting her eyelashes.

"Too old-fashioned. How about…_master_?" he suggested haughtily.

She didn't even dignify that with a reply; instead, she gave him her best _spare me_ look.

He chuckled. "It was worth a try. Okay, you could call me your mate."

"You've been watching way too many nature shows."

_And what was wrong with that? _Jane thought a little defensively.

"We really don't need to label this now, do we?" he asked evasively.

"No," she said. "Not yet."

He turned to meet her eyes. He knew exactly what she was saying. One day, perhaps she could call him _fiancé_, then, soon after that, _husband_. Until then, everything was gloriously new; no sense going from zero to one-hundred—there were a lot of nice, steady, safe speeds along the way. They knew how they felt, where this would likely lead. He cleared his throat.

"So what about those fun questions you were about to ask?"

She happily switched the subject for the time being, and pulled up that e-mail on her phone.

"Okay, question number one: what was your first impression of me? Sheesh, I can guess that answer."

"Oh, really?"

"You thought I was bossy, uptight, and impatient."

"Yes," he said. "But I also found you to be kind, caring, and seriously adorable."

"Oh," she said, blushing faintly.

"I was just too emotionally damaged to let myself dwell on it. But often, in those quiet moments alone on my couch, I decided you were one of the most amazing women I'd ever met."

"Jane."

He took her hand. "It's true. Still is."

She felt warm all over, nearly overwhelmed by the emotion in his voice. She swallowed.

"Thank you," she managed softly. She cleared her throat, then hesitated a moment over the next question. She felt shy about asking, but as a woman in love, she really wanted to know. "Question two: when did you first realize you were in love with me?"

He didn't even have to think about it. "After I shot Sheriff Hardy."

"What? Really?" _That long ago? _She thought in surprise.

"Yes. When I realized your life eclipsed my quest for Red John, it came to me that, given my state of mind at the time, I must have loved you to sacrifice my biggest lead. I'm too much of a selfish bastard otherwise."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"You would have done the same thing for anyone though, Jane."

He shook his head. "I'm not so sure about that, Lisbon."

"So it wasn't when you accidentally blurted it out when you pretended to shoot me?" she asked coyly.

"When I blurted out what?" Out of the corner of his eye he saw her hand ball into a fist. His grin was shy this time. "All right, I admit it: I said it that day. I remember saying it."

"Dammit, Jane. As far as lies go, that was a pretty crappy one, even for you. I went from thinking I was going crazy to being furious with you for messing with my emotions like that."

"I'm sorry, Teresa. When I told you I didn't remember, I'd chickened out, simple as that. I hadn't intended to tell you that way. Hadn't intended to tell you at all, not while Red John was still in the world."

"Oh."

"But that's water under the bridge, my love. So tell me, would it go against your e-mail game if I asked you the same question? Just out of idle curiosity, of course."

She smiled. "You mean, when did I first know I was in love with you?"

"Yes, Lisbon. If it's not too personal a question."

In the past couple of days, he'd asked her when she'd lost her virginity and where she'd had sex. Relatively speaking, this was a question she would find very easy to answer.

"Not at all." She paused, thinking back nearly thirteen years before. "It was probably our third case together, actually. When you saved that Tucker girl from being attacked, how you'd beaten the hell out of the guy, then comforted the girl until we could get there. I heard you talking to her, making her feel safe." Tears came to her eyes, remembering it. "Despite all your anger, your vigilantism, you had a pure, loving heart. I saw you as the strong, caring man you really were inside, behind that smile and your reckless behavior. In those unguarded moments with that little girl, I saw the father you must have been, and my heart broke for you, but strangely, I no longer pitied you. You touched me profoundly with your kindness. I know it sounds corny, but that's when it hit me, like the proverbial ton of bricks."

Jane remembered that case well. The girl had looked like Charlotte, and when he'd gotten to the scene first—on a hunch—and he'd seen that monster about to rape her, something in him had snapped. If the little girl hadn't been there watching, he would have killed the bastard with his bare hands.

"That was a long time ago, Lisbon."

"Yes. I can barely remember not loving you."

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Why?"

"For my priorities being so screwed up that in the end I nearly lost you because of it."

"You were hurting, and you were consumed with anger and self-loathing. I understood that. I held on to the hope that someday you would remember who you really were, that your single-mindedness wouldn't last forever. We were going to get Red John, and then you would be free."

"It took me awhile, even after that," he said sadly. _So much wasted time._

She grinned wryly; she'd forgiven him for that too. "Old habits…"

"You really have the patience of a saint, for waiting for me."

"I almost didn't, so no, not a saint exactly. Just a woman in love with an impossible man."

He smiled. "Regardless, I am incredibly grateful. You've saved me so many times over the years, both literally and figuratively—I can't begin to enumerate all the ways. But I can say one thing, Teresa; I would be dead if it weren't for you, simple as that."

Her hand squeezed his, and at moments like this, the surreality of their love being in the open threatened to overwhelm her. The way he was looking at her brought a wave of warmth and longing tingling through her body.

"I love you," he told her, kissing her knuckles. "My dear, sweet Lisbon."

"I love you too."

They reveled in the emotion-filled stillness, Jane's attention clearly divided from his driving. At the next rest stop, he pulled off the highway, removed his seatbelt, and kissed her with all the passion welling up from his heart.

"If it weren't broad daylight, I'd christen the backseat of this Camry with you, Teresa," he said, breathing heavily.

She glanced doubtfully at the small space behind them. "I don't know…we aren't kids anymore."

"You make me feel like one," he told her, and he placed her hand over his pounding heart.

"Me too," she whispered. "But I'm still not having sex with you in the back of this car."

He chuckled. His hand slid down to cup her breast within her t-shirt, his thumb passing lightly over her firm nipple. "You sure?"

He leaned into her hair, nuzzling near her ear. She shivered. "Stop it. Someone will see us."

"That just makes it more exciting."

He wandered back to her mouth again, kissing her more leisurely this time, trying to slow things down before he was tempted to climb over the console, lean her chair back and…

"Let's get out of here," he said suddenly. "Stretch our legs a bit."

Her eyes opened to look at him dazedly. "Hmm?"

He kissed her lightly one last time and exited his side of the car. She joined him in a moment, and they walked to a picnic table beneath the trees, holding hands. Nearby, a fellow traveler was walking her dog, encouraging it to do its business.

Jane perched atop the table, and Lisbon sat on the attached bench seat.

"At this rate, we'll never make it home," she said. They were still somewhere in Louisiana. Jane laid down flat on the table, one hand behind his head, as he looked up into the trees at a busy squirrel.

"Would that be so bad?" He sighed tiredly, closing his eyes.

"I don't mind Austin. Although everything I own besides the contents of my duffle bag is on its way to DC."

"You still have the key to your apartment?"

"Yeah. I thought I would be flying to DC from Austin, so I hadn't given it to my landlord yet. Technically the place is still mine until the end of the month. Maybe I can renew my lease, if they haven't rented it out already."

"If not, you can always stay with me."

"In the Airstream? No thank you."

He smiled, eyes still closed. "It would just be temporary. We could find a bigger place later."

She tensed, and turned to look at him, so beautiful and calm beneath the dappled sunlight, while her heart was racing at his words.

"Are you asking me to…to move in with you?"

"Yes." He opened one eye.

"Jane, this is—"

"Too soon?" He sat up again. "We've wasted so much time, Teresa; I don't want to waste anymore. This road trip has made me realize that there are so many things about you that I don't really know. Isn't that amazing? After thirteen years, you're still a mystery to me in so many ways. I'd like the chance to get to know you, in long, uninterrupted blocks of time, like we have been on this trip. How can that happen when I have to say goodbye to you every night?"

Her head was spinning. "I've never lived with anyone before," she said. "I'm old and set in my ways…"

"You were all set to live with Marcus," he pointed out, trying to keep the bitterness from his voice.

She flinched. He had a point. "I know. But I felt…trapped. I'd allowed things to get out of control with him."

He reached for her hand, held it between both of his; hers was clammy with nervousness, and he felt her pulse skitter beneath his massaging fingers.

"Do _I _make you feel trapped?" he asked gently.

She met his eyes, and she instantly felt calmer. "No. I'm just…surprised, that's all. I didn't think you would be ready for this so fast."

"I'm ready," he said positively, though he'd only figured that out in the last five minutes. It was true, though. Maybe going from zero to eighty wasn't too fast. "But you're worried what people will think of you—embarking on a new life with one man one day, hooking up with another the next. You're worried it will make you seem flighty, indecisive. Promiscuous even," he finished with a smirk.

"Well…"

"Look, Abbot knows the score already, Lisbon. Fischer won't be surprised, not really. She's had us pegged since the moment she met you. And Cho—well if he was in denial before, he won't be anymore. He's known us for years; he'll be happy for us, once he threatens me with bodily harm if I hurt you. Who the hell else matters?"

He was right, and she knew it, but she was still hesitant. People had been gossiping about them for years. It took a lot for her to go beyond her comfort zone when it came to her personal life, however. The past month had been harrowing for her—hell, the past three years had wreaked havoc on her emotional stability. From losing Jane to losing her job with the CBI, moving to Washington, then to Austin, committing to Pike and another move to DC—she'd felt a bit frazzled.

"Can I think about it?"

"Of course," he said, and his confidence didn't seem to waver. Sometimes he seemed to know her better than she knew herself. Except of course, when it had come to Pike, and then he had been so blinded by his own fear and inadequacy that he'd nearly doomed them both to a loveless existence. But that was over, and he was back to being able to read her uncannily.

"Shall we get going?" she asked, standing up.

"Sure. It's almost lunch time, and there's no place around here to eat."

She rolled her eyes. "Good to see those priorities are back on track."

He hopped off the table and took her hand once more. "You may be number one in my heart, Lisbon, but my stomach will always be a close second."

"I'm in a precarious position, I'm sure."

"And well you should remember that, sweetheart. Stand between food and my stomach, and I can offer you no guarantees…"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Describe your idea of a truly romantic evening," Lisbon said, continuing with question three on the list.

"Well," Jane replied, "Imagine the Blue Bird Lodge—minus Cho, Abbot, a cold case, and a glass of water in my face. That was pretty much it. My ultimate seduction plan."

"Oh…Well, it _was _a very nicely planned evening," she offered.

"Yeah, thanks," he said with mild sarcasm. "Next?"

"What was your most embarrassing moment?" she asked, moving down the list.

"See question three."

She laughed. "Oh, come on. There has to be another more embarrassing moment than that."

"Nope. That was the capper. Actually, generally speaking, I don't get embarrassed. Of all the years you've known me, have you ever seen me embarrassed?"

She thought a moment. She couldn't remember a single time. Apologetic, maybe. Humble on a rare occasion. But embarrassed? "No," she admitted. "I guess not."

"Next question?"

"Describe yourself in one word."

"Tenacious."

"That's a good word, though it's not necessarily complimentary."

Jane nodded once. "Exactly." She raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, describe _me_ in one word," she said, reading from the list.

This was difficult. How could he put into just one word everything she was, everything he thought of her? Her goodness, her kindness, her forgiving nature, her beauty, her skill as a cop, her sexiness, her…

"Jane?"

"I can't do it," he said after a few silent moments. "One word could never be sufficient, Teresa. Any word I think of would fall dismally short."

She felt a tightness in her throat. "Jane," she said softly, incredibly touched. He gave her his most brilliant smile, even more overwhelming when it openly showed his love for her.

"You've got to get me off this pedestal," she chastised him. "How in the world will I ever live up to that?"

"You do, in my opinion, every day. I'm glad I can tell you now. It sounds overly sappy, but it's what I've felt for you every day since I met you."

"Thank you," she said. Then she smiled. "I like this game."

He chuckled. "I bet you do. Question four then, Lisbon. At this rate, we'll never finish that list."

"Okay, here's a lightning round. Favorite movie?"

"_North by North_west."

"Oh, good choice! I love Cary Grant!"

"Book?"

"_The Prince_."

"By Machiavelli?" she asked, surprised.

"Yes."

"Well, that's disturbing."

He grinned enigmatically.

"Favorite board game?"

"Chess."

"No surprise there, I guess. Breakfast food? Well, that's got to be eggs."

"Very good, Lisbon."

"Dessert?"

"Hot fudge sundae."

"Well, I knew that one too. See? I know you pretty well."

"Yes. Yes, you do. Like the back of your hand."

"What? You don't think this stuff is important?" she teased dryly. "You wouldn't want to starve with me, would you?"

"In the grand scheme of things, what difference would it make? Would you love me less if my favorite breakfast food was waffles?"

"You hate waffles."

"And yet your feelings haven't changed."

"All right, they _are_ silly questions. Van Pelt wouldn't have sent me anything really deep. She's always trying to lighten me up. But I'm having fun, aren't you?"

"Sure. Talking to you is always fun, Lisbon."

"Well, here's a little deeper question. What fruit do I remind you of?"

"A ripe, juicy peach." He shot her a positively wicked glance. "These questions are starting to make me hungry," he said. She swallowed, and he smiled knowingly.

"Okay, uh, last question. If you could be anyone else for a day, who would you be?"

"A child," he said after a brief pause.

"I think they mean a famous or powerful person."

"Does it say that?"

"Well, no."

"Then I choose to be a child."

"Yes, you do. Every day."

She smiled, and then it faded as she realized the significance of his choice. He was serious. He wished it not just for the obvious, where he could be innocent again, carefree, able to play all the time. It was also that there were many things he would have done differently with his life. He wished he could start over again. She could certainly relate to that.

"Everything you've been through has made you who you are, Jane," she told him. "I wouldn't change a thing about you."

He looked at her sidelong, skeptical. "Now, that's a lie. There are quite a few things I'm sure you wish I had done differently."

"Well, maybe, when the shit was hitting the fan. But looking back, everything led you here, to me. It hasn't been easy at times. It's actually been hell occasionally. You've done some hurtful, even idiotic things, but I also wish you could have been spared a lot of pain. I'm grateful we're both alive, Jane, that we've survived it all. The reward has been…sweet."

"I would have liked to have seen you as a child," he said, his mood lightening as suddenly as it had darkened. "I bet you were cute. All freckles and braided pigtails."

She laughed. "I was skinny and awkward and something of a tomboy."

"Played football with the boys, did you? Had a few scuffles on the playground, a la Scout Finch?"

"Yes. I was totally badass. The boys wouldn't mess with me much."

"Until you hit puberty, I imagine," he suggested, looking pointedly at her breasts.

She blushed. "Yeah, well, then I joined the marching band, which pretty much ruined my junior high social life. Oh, and braces didn't help much either."

"I wish I'd known you then," he mused.

She laid her head back against the headrest. "Me too. But you would have been the boy that pulled my pigtails and snapped my bra." She imagined him as a child, with platinum blonde angel curls and the same mischievous smile.

"Perhaps," he admitted. "But it would have been because I would have had a serious crush on you. I was always a sucker for freckles—still am." He'd been pleased to find that she had them all over her smooth, pale body, just as he'd imagined. "Someday soon I plan to map them all, like the constellations."

Lisbon shivered a little, feeling suddenly warm at the same time. "I'd like that."

Jane caught her eyes and held them, sensual longing heavy in the small car. He forced himself to focus his gaze on the road, both hands moving to grip the steering wheel tightly.

"Good questions," he said.

"Yeah, that was fun," she replied absently. She wondered if they'd be in too much trouble if they stopped and found a hotel right now-

"You hungry?" he asked suddenly. "I'm hungry. Looks like a sizeable town up ahead. Let's stop for lunch."

"Sounds good," she agreed, and looked at his handsome profile a few minutes longer, her lips forming a secretive smile.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After a hamburger lunch in one of the greasy roadside diners Jane loved so much, Jane relinquished the keys to Lisbon and promptly fell asleep in the passenger's seat, while Lisbon drove the rest of the way to Austin, 80's soft rock playing low on the radio.

She couldn't remember enjoying talking to Jane more. It had been fun, and enlightening and sexy. And free from all the fear that had been standing between them for years. There was a new openness between them, an emotional glasnost. But now she had a new fear, and it was called real life. She didn't want to leave him, or the romantic bubble that had surrounded them since Florida.

The sound of a honking horn finally woke him, and Jane sat up, yawning and stretching and looking around in surprise.

"Well, hello, sleepy head," she said cheerfully. "Have a nice nap?"

"Yeah. Sorry I slept so long. Had a rough night last night." He winked at her. "We're here," he realized, seeing the familiar streets of Austin. He sounded as disappointed as she felt.

"Yep. Shall I drop you off at the trailer park?" she asked him. "I'll meet you at the car rental place tomorrow morning and you can drive us both in to work."

"You going back to your apartment?"

They were both being very polite and formal, and it was tearing Lisbon up inside. He was feeling it too, this fear. Back at home, if they could call Austin that, would things be too difficult, too awkward?

"Yes," she replied. "It was already furnished, so my bed will still be there. No bedding, but I'll run to Wal-Mart and—"

"Let's stay together, Teresa," he said, in the middle of rush hour traffic. He tentatively touched her thigh. "Just one more night. We can work out all the details of our new existence tomorrow."

She could no more resist him than she could have stayed on that plane.

"Okay…one more question then…Your place or mine?"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hearts pounding, breath coming in sharp pants, he lay on his side on Lisbon's new sheets, her bottom pressed against his arousal. He drew up her knee, holding it there as he entered her from behind. She gasped, and he bent his head to suckle her breast while he thrust his hips, embedding himself more deeply inside.

"Oh, God," she cried, feeling her excitement rising to almost unbearable levels.

Several slow, torturous strokes and he rolled her to her stomach, still deep within her, his chest pressed into her back, his hot breath on the back of her neck. She rose up on all fours and his hand moved around to stroke her throbbing core. The primitiveness of this position made his blood rush madly through his veins as he took her harder and faster, his back straightening, his hands going to her hips. She thrust her bottom back into him and he gave a guttural growl, sweat breaking out on his forehead and chest.

This was far from romantic, but it was what they both needed—this wildness, this total loss of control. The bed shook with their passion, until his continuous pounding into just the right spot had her crying out in ecstasy. Her body trembled violently with the force of it. He held her more tightly so she wouldn't collapse onto the bed, riding her roughly until he found his own release soon after. He felt his climax throughout his entire body-even his toes tingled, and the top of his head.

He let her go and she dropped onto the bed like a rag doll, boneless and sated, while he landed once more to rest on her back, pressing her into the bed with all of his weight. As he began to gather his wits, he realized this and rolled off of her slim body and onto his back, still breathing heavily as he stared up into the shadowed ceiling.

"Damn," she heard him say, his voice filled with wonder.

She smiled into the sheets, still too exhausted to move.

"Are we working through the entire _Kama Sutra_ then?" she teased.

He turned his head to look at her. "Whatever you desire, my love, but I draw the line at the Two-headed Crab."

She laughed. "I'll take your word for it."

"Sorry if I was a little rough," he said at length, smiling gently now. "But somehow I sensed that was what you wanted too."

"And you say you're not a psychic."

He only smiled smugly.

She found the strength to sidle closer to him on the bed, then kissed his lips, her hair a sensual curtain, brushing against his bare skin.

"Mmm," he hummed in appreciation against her mouth. He could feel the renewed stirring of his desire, and he wondered if it would be pressing his luck to request round two. He couldn't get over how much he wanted her, how now that the sensual dam had been breached, there seemed to be no end to his passion for her.

"I don't want you to leave," she whispered, raising her head so she could look into his languid green eyes.

"I'll stay then."

She smiled. "Good, because I mean forever."

He looked into her shining eyes, saw that she was deadly serious.

"Are you sure?"

Her eyes turned suspiciously misty.

"Yes. Now that I have you, I don't want to let you go."

"Nor I you."

She kissed him again, and this time his hand came up to hold the back of her head while she slipped her tongue between his lips, the moment almost as intimate as what they had just done with the rest of their bodies.

"I'm not afraid anymore," she told him. "Whatever happens, whatever difficulties come up, we'll handle them together. I just don't want to live without you, ever again."

"You don't have to," he told her. "I promise."

"Okay," she said, her hand gliding down his chest and lower, where she found, much to her delight, that he was ready for her once more.

"I think you're underestimating yourself, Jane. Now, about that Two-headed Crab…"

**THE END**

**A/N: Thanks for reading. I'll have another story for you soon, I hope. In the meantime, please let me know what you thought of this one!**


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